


The Only Journey

by Wanheda89



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU post Mountain, Angst, BAMF Clarke Griffin, Depression, F/F, Forgiveness, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, My Gay Girls Live, No ALIE, Self-Harm, Swearing, Wanheda Clarke Griffin, War, Worldbuilding, like extremely, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 70,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanheda89/pseuds/Wanheda89
Summary: The Mountain was brutal, an ending that never should have happened. But it has and she is alone. Alone with the weight of a thousand lives. She has brought death to many, and now death demands its due. (Sorry summarys are a B)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're here, thanks for reading the drivel that my mind likes to come up with instead of sleeping. Also, fair warning before you get started...Our fav girls won't get to see each other for a long ass time. It's not the way I like it, but it had to be done. ALSO there will be violence, torture, self-harm, bodily fluids, and pain. I'll provide chapter warnings so they can be avoided, but they're there. Hope you enjoy!

 

“I’m almost done here, get everyone ready to move.” Clarke barely looked up from the bandages in her hand, “See who’s strong enough to help Raven and my mom, they shouldn’t be alone.”

“Clarke, surely it would be better to wait. Give everyone more time to recover. We can stay here tonight and leave in the morning.” Kane looked around the med-bay, “And it’ll give us more time to grab supplies.”

“Stay the night? Where? With all the..people in the dining room? Are you going to send someone around to look in the apartments?” Clarke's voice was hoarse, “Or maybe we should stay in the dorm where everyone was kept, prisoner.”

“No..I..Clarke.” Kane stuttered.

“This is a graveyard,” Clarke meant to sound harsh, but her voice wobbled too much, “And I won’t stay here a moment longer than I have to.” She stuffed the bandages into the backpack in front of her, already stretched to its limit with medical supplies. “I leave in an hour, come with me, or stay behind and hope someone else knows the way.”

She stalked out of the room, turning down the hall, her eyes resolutely focused on the far wall in front of her. Most people had been in the dining room, but there were guards who had fallen in the hallways. Kids still in classrooms, teenagers hanging out in groups scattered here and there. She had thrown up what little was in her stomach when she’d ducked into a room to escape her mother and found an old couple cuddled next to each other on the sofa, a book spread across their laps, hands clutching each other, burns spreading across their skin.

It had taken a few minutes after that to pull herself back together. The war was over, at least this one, but despite her sobs and the way the echoing in her head made her heave, she couldn’t stop Lexa’s voice from rattling around ‘The dead are gone and the living are hungry.’ She couldn’t mourn yet, not until her people were out and gone from this place.

Clarke turned down another hallway, not even needing to look at a map of this place, she’d gone over it so many times while planning this war. Not that it had turned out the way she planned. She shook her head, she couldn’t get caught in this, not again, not now. She finally reached the door and shoved it open.

“Clarke!” Raven called, “Please tell me you brought us something good.”

She forced a small smile and lifted the bag in her hand, “I don’t know about good, but it’ll be better than a drill in the leg.”

Raven rolled her eyes, “That is not going to be a fucking thing. You hear me.”

“I don’t know, it has a certain je ne sais quoi.” Wick nudged Raven in the side, not hard enough to make her shift, but enough to make her reach up and punch him in the shoulder.

“I’m going to je ne sais quoi your ba..”Raven broke off in a groan. Clarke had just poured something on her leg. “FUCK!”

“I thought we already did that,” Wick joked, wrapping his arm around Raven’s back.

“Just shut the fuck up,” Raven panted, sweat pouring down her face, “I’d take a little warning next time.”

“Wouldn’t have made it any better,” Clarke was still focused on her leg.

Raven quirked her eyebrow and glanced at Wick. He just gave a small shake of his head and she winced, Clarke was rubbing something over her leg now. “Well, I could have grabbed Wick’s hand.”

“You want to hold my hand?” Wick looked surprised and confused.

Raven rolled her eyes, “No, but I could have shared the pain.”

“Breaking Wick’s hand will not make you feel better Raven,” Abby was standing just behind her, supported by Kane. “What did you find?”

Clarke wiped her hands off on her pants before grabbing the bag and handing it over, “There are bandages and antibiotic cream in there, I also grabbed some vials of antibiotic, a vial of morphine and a couple bottles of pain pills. There are also a few needles in there too.”

Abby grabbed the bag and started sorting through it, “Kane tells me you’re insisting on leaving shortly.”

“Yes.”

Abby looked up, “I don’t think it’s a good idea, we can stay here for a few days, recover. Then we can go back to Camp Jaha.”

“No.” They both ignored the cusses coming from Raven and Wick.

“Clarke, you’re being selfish. We are injured,” Abby gestured between her and Raven, “The others are malnourished and dehydrated. They need a few days to recover before they make that walk. There’s plenty of food, water, and more than enough beds in here.”

“I am not staying here.” She gestured to the corner where they’d laid the bodies of the Mountain Men who’d died in here, “They may not bother you, but there are hundreds more outside of this room. I am not staying here with the dead, let alone eating their food and sleeping in their beds.”

The volume of their conversation had risen and others had taken notice. Other’s started voicing their opinions until it was chaos, but Clarke wasn’t moved, still glaring at her mother.

“Shut it!” Raven finally broke through the noise.

“We are staying. Monty, can you show Kane to the command center, we need to radio Camp Jaha and let them know.” Abby ordered.

“Uh..” Monty just shifted in place, “I can do that for whoever wants to stay, but I’m not.”

“Who wants to stay?” Raven broke through again, heading off Abbys explosion.

Most of the guard, Abby, and Kane all raised their hands causing Raven to suppress a laugh. You could take the kid out of school, but you couldn’t take the school out of the kid. “Who wants to leave.” Every single one of the remaining hundred raised their hands. Raven looked to Abby, “Looks like we’re heading out.”

“Raven. This is not wise. You need some time to rest and recover.” Abby protested.

“I’m not going to rest here.” Raven waved her hand to the corner, “They kind of fuck with that.”

“Language.” Kane interjected and Raven rolled her eyes.

“It’s been decided,” Clarke broke her silence, “We leave in 30 minutes.” She raised her voice so the rest could hear. “Monty, can you use the intercom system to tell anyone who wandered off?”

Monty nodded his head and took off.

“Clarke, you are not in charge here.” Abby grabbed her arm. “We are no longer fighting a war.”

“Will those pain meds work? Or should I go look for something else?” Clarke ignored her mothers' efforts to get her to change her mind.

Abby let go, almost wilting in defeat, “No. This will be fine for now.” She grabbed a bottle and twisted the lid open, pouring out pills and handing them to Raven before pouring out some for herself. Kane left to grab them water.

Clarke left and followed after Monty. She waited till he was done making the announcement. Only twenty minutes until she could get out of this hellhole. “Monty.” He turned looking wary.

“Is there a way to lock this place down?” He looked confused, “Make it so no one can come back. Move in.”

Monty’s head jerked back a bit as he realized what she was saying. “No one wou-”

“She’s already planning it.” Clarke interrupted. “She’s already thinking about what she can take, and how we can use this place.”

Monty looked horrified, “I – I Don’t-”

“Is there a way to lock the door? Keep anyone without a key out?”

Monty thought for a minute, “Yeah..Yeah, I think I can do that. There was a standby mode. I’ll need to double check really quick, but if it’s what I think it is, we just turn that on and then whoever has the president’s keycard or code would be the only one who could turn this place back on.”

“How much time do you need?”

“10 minutes. It’s already set-up, I just need to double check and turn it on.”

“Keycard only. No code.”

Monty nodded, “We’ll need the keycard,” He hesitated, “Cage..”

Clarke shook her head, “He didn’t have it. He had the guards on his side, but not the tech guys. Cage couldn’t make them change it without letting everyone know he’d instigated a coup.”

They had walked while they talked, distracting themselves from the smells and sights around them. Clarke shoved the command center door open, it had warped with the damage it had taken and walked in. She paused over Wallace’s body, swallowing down the bile that rose in her throat. She took a deep breath, then began searching his pockets for a keycard. Fortunately it was in the second pocket she checked. She handed set it on the table next to Monty, letting him type away.

“It’s done.” Clarke jumped. She’d zoned out, the sound of typing almost hypnotizing her. “When we walk out, you’ll need to swipe the card and type in 0000001#. The system will shut down, lock the doors, and enter standby mode.” He pushed himself up and away from the console, “The doors can still be opened with explosives, but they won’t be able to turn on the power for anything.”

Clarke nodded, “Thank you, Monty.”

He nodded, aware that she was thanking him for more than just this. “You were right, it’s the right thing to do.”

Clarke nodded, “I’m sorry about Jasper, too.” She hadn’t seen him since the dining room, for all she knew he was still there, but he had been almost hysterical when she had left.

Monty just nodded, not really sure what to say about it. They stood in silence for a few minutes, the weight of the day settling on them both.

“Let’s get going, you two.” Bellamy poked his head through the doorway, “I finally got Jasper up and moving and if he stops I don’t know if we’ll be able to get him going.”

They nodded and followed him down the hallway, joining the group of people headed out of the Mountain. They waited and ended up being the last group in the elevator and out the door.

Clarke closed her eyes and took a deep breathe once she was no longer surrounded by the Mountain’s walls. It was so strange, she’d lived within the walls of the ark for 17, almost 18 years, but a month on the ground was all it took for walls, any walls, to feel like they were closing in on her. She turned back for just a moment, opening the wall panel Monty had told her about and following his directions. It took a minute, but the screen dimmed, followed by a hollow thunk that she felt throughout her body.

 

Clarke could tell when the others started to recognize the woods around them, the chatter increasing as they got closer. It had mostly been a quiet walk. Everyone was exhausted, hungry and thirsty. Though most of them were more than happy to leave the Mountain it didn’t make the walk any easier. Especially for Abby and Raven. They’d managed half the walk, but four hours of walking after the torture of being drilled had left them both in a lot of pain. Abby had just needed help, help that Kane was more than happy to provide, though they’d started using the stretcher when she’d twisted her other ankle. Raven had done that for a bit, though eventually, Wick had just scooped her up, ignoring her curses and protests. He’d carried her the rest of the way, refusing help. Clarke was sure she’d seen a hint of red on Raven’s cheeks more than once, but she still hadn’t figured out if it was a happy blush or an angry one.

“How much longer?” Abby asked, looking around as if she wasn’t sure if she recognized the area or if the pain meds were making her fuzzy-headed.

“Another mile or so,” Clarkes voice sounded distant and hollow.

“Good,” Abby nodded, “When we get back I want you to go straight to Medical. Jackson can look you over and then you can get some food and rest.”

“Mom, there are others who need Jackson a lot more than I do. I’m fine. Nothing wrong with me.” Clarke only registered how monotone her voice was after she had finished speaking.

“Clarke, you will do as you’re told. I am your mother and the chancellor, I will not hear arguments about this.”

“Weren't you accusing me of being selfish just a few hours ago?”

“The other kids agreed with you, I still think it would have been better to stay.” Abby huffed, “It doesn’t matter, its done now, but you will not argue with me anymore.”

Clarke felt anger building inside of her, starting to break through the numbness that had settled in during their walk. “Seriously?!”

“Clarke,” Kane broke into their conversation, obviously trying to head off an argument between the two stubborn women, “This fight is over, the kids are safe and so are we. You can go back to being a kid like you should be. We’ll take care of making the decisions, you can take a break.”

A weird strangled sound broke through Clarke’s throat muscles, rage forcing itself through.

They broke through the tree line, the ark was in view now. Clarke used the noise, from their group and the ark, to give separation between her and Abby. Hanging back and watching the reunions taking place. Some didn’t have anyone to greet them, but others still had parents and friends who’d been worried for days, not knowing what the Mountain Men were doing.

She walked forward a bit more, still hanging outside of the fence. It was so...weird. Everything was so normal. People hugging, others just watching with happiness and joy. And through all of that others were continuing on with tasks, chopping wood, dumping water from buckets into large cisterns, tending to the vegetables, and corralling children who were using the distraction to run wild.

“I think we deserve a drink,” Bellamy broke Clarke out of her reverie.

Clarke paused a moment, yeah she could use a drink, but.. “Have one for me.”

“Hey. We’ll get through this.

“I’m not going in.”

“Look. If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. You’re forgiven. Please come inside.”

“Take care of them for me.”

“Clarke-”

“No. Seeing their faces every day is just gonna remind me of what I did to get them here.”

“What we did. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Clarke turned a bit, looking at her mother being fussed over by Jackson, Raven and Octavia poking at each other. “I bear this so they don’t have to.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke reached up, placing a small kiss on his cheek. She stepped back and sighed, “May we meet again.”

“May we meet again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone now.

Clarke walked into the forest, her heart pounding, waiting for someone to yell or even chase after her. Abby had made her expectations clear and if she realized what Clarke was doing she would have every guard on the ark coming after her.

Her shoulders remained tense as she walked, not really paying attention to the path she was taking, just moving forward. Forward and away from the ark. From the pain, the fear, the stupidity, the arrogance.

“I bear it so they don’t have to.” Clarke murmured to herself. She had been living that way long before Wallace had said those words. She had borne the burden of knowing the ark was dying, then carried the burden of trying to keep the hundred alive – A burden made ridiculously difficult by the hundred themselves and then the grounders. Then it was Mount Weather, the Ark coming to the ground, and Alliance and a War. Decision after decision that others couldn’t – no, wouldn’t make.

Clarke stumbled, foot catching on a root. She caught herself and finally noticed the waning light. Here, in the trees, the light was faint and fading more with every minute that passed. She sighed, she didn’t really want to stop moving, but she didn’t recognize where she was at and there was no reason to keep going. She sat, leaning against the tree whose root had tripped her. Her head fell back, thumping against the trunk, her eyes sliding closed.

_ Branches whipped in the wind, whipped into her flesh as she ran, leaving only a welt and a trail of blood behind. She kept moving, her feet churning as fast as she could move them. She had to move, to get away. It was the only way. It was coming for her, chasing her and it would not lose its prize. She dodged to the side, almost positive that she felt skeletal hands reaching for her, and it took only that moment for her to lose pace. Stumbling as the terrain suddenly sloped down to the side. She took a few tripping steps, determined to catch herself, before the ground crumbled away underneath her feet, leaving her suspended in the air for a split second before she crashed down. She tumbled through the brush, carrying rocks and branches with her, though only after they’d left their marks in her skin before it stopped ending in a bitter cold splash. She’d landed in a stream, frigid and clear, and it felt almost good, shocking her out of the terror that had fueled her. She sat there a moment, trying to clear her head before a sound caught her attention “You.” She whipped around terror back in full force. Finn. How-what? “You did this to me.” He stepped out of the trees and onto the water. She paused breath catching in her throat, he didn’t step into the water, but onto it. She tore her eyes away from his feet and back to him, and wished she hadn’t. He stepped forward, blood soaking the front of his body, still somehow pouring from the wound in his side, “You killed me. You brought me death. Now death is coming for you.” He raised his hand to point at her and she was suddenly surrounded. Surrounded by Finn, Wells, Anya’s second, Dante, Maya, Charlotte and hundreds more she couldn’t name. They stood there, surrounding her, closing her off from everything around her, not moving or speaking, just staring. They shifted and another arrived, “Dad.” Clarke sobbed. He lifted his hand, “You are the bringer of death. You brought death to me.” She gasped, but the sound was lost as those gather began to chant, “Bringer of Death.” Every chant seemed to steal away her breathe, robbing her of the ability to inhale, she gasped and sobbed. A breeze gusted through, combining with the water to freeze her skin and the sound stopped. Even her own sobs though not ceasing suddenly didn’t cause any sound. Maya stepped forward, “You are the bringer of death, but not yet death itself. Only death can save them.” Maya stepped forward closer and closer, the fear of her forcing Clarke to stand. “You are the bringer of death-” She suddenly reached forward and grabbed Clarke’s throat, changing from Maya into..something else, “-And you owe me.” _

Clarke jolted forward, turning at the last second as bile roiled up her throat to spew across the forest floor. She heaved until there was nothing left in her already empty stomach and then heaved some more. Her stomach and throat both felt raw when she finally stopped, swiping across her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

That dream had been….Clarke shuddered, the terror of the dream starting to fill her again. It was ridiculous, just a weird nightmare brought on by being alone for the first time in months and the forest noises, but..Maya said she owed her. Or-well, whatever that person was, but Maya- Maya she did owe.

Clarke spit, trying to clear the taste from her mouth. On hands and knees now, she pushed up, stumbling away from the tree and the mess, off to find a cleaner spot to rest. It was still dark, so she wouldn’t be able to go until the sun started to rise, but Clarke knew where she was going now. She owed Maya. Maya had done everything she could, far more than anyone really could’ve asked her to do, to help Clarke and her people. She risked everything, and in the end, Clarke had taken everything from Maya. Her family, her friends, her life. It was all gone thanks to Clarke.

Clarke closed her eyes, she didn’t plan to sleep again, the dream still lingering around the edges of her senses, but she needed as much rest as she could manage. It would be a long few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate trying to put breakers into chapters, so a fair number of the chapters will be shorter, but there will probably be multiple chapters posted, I just don't want to deal with breakers. Also sorry for any grammer/spelling mistakes.
> 
> Comment/Kudos/Subscribe/Bookmark and feed my soul.


	3. Chapter 3

Lexa shifted, rolling to her side, trying to get comfortable. 3 days. It had been 3 days since she’d been able to find a comfortable spot. Truthfully she hadn’t been in her bed in longer than that, but Clarke had been more than comfortable – Lexa huffed and threw herself onto her back, giving up on sleep. She hadn’t struggled like this since her first war, the first battle to create the coalition. She had made the right choice, she knew it. Even her people, furious and bloodthirsty from being denied the chance to spill Mountain blood, did not dispute that she had made the right choice. 417 of her people had been caged inside of Mount Weather, and they were free. They were free and she had lost only a handful of warriors. It was a clear victory and a clear choice when it was presented to her.

She had chosen well, had done exactly what her people needed her to do..but it was not what she needed. She had needed to fight for the thousands taken by the mountain, she had needed to spill their blood. She had needed to follow the sky girl, with her sun-silk hair, into that mountain and then back out again, ensuring her safety. She’d needed- _ No. Ai Laik Heda. I don’t have needs. I am the servant of my people. _

“Heda! Heda!”

Lexa growled lowly in frustration before levering herself out of bed. She didn’t bother pulling on her coat or extra weapons, just calling for the guards to let whoever enter, pouring herself a drink.

A scout entered, dropping to a knee, “Heda.” He waited for her permission to continue.

Lexa took a deep breath, this was one of the scouts she had ordered to watch the mountain. “Speak.”

“Heda we watched the mountain as you said, we did not set foot on the ground. The skaigada stayed in front of the doors for a period of time, about a half a candle mark. She then walked to where the entrance to the reaper tunnels lay.”

Lexa’s brows furrowed. On one hand, she was glad that the Mountain Men had not opened the door and killed Clarke where she stood, but why had she gone into the tunnels.

“We did not see anyone go in or out for several hours. Shortly before midnight, a man left the mountain, he was dressed in sky clothes and carried a gun, but he was followed by Lincoln kom Trikru who killed him.”  _ Probably not a sky person, but a mountain man _ , Lexa’s stomach rolled.  _ If the mountain men can walk the ground without their suits, then the captive sky children are likely dead. _

“Lincoln returned to the reaper tunnels and it was quiet again until just before dawn. The main door to the Mountain opened and the sky people left. Most were weak and a few were injured, but they all walked out under their own strength and without any Mountain men following them. The skaigada was the last one to leave the mountain. She closed the door and did something at a wall. Then they all left the mountain.” The scout glanced away and shifted, catching Lexa’s attention.

“What.”

“We- uhh,”

“Speak gona.”

The scout looked at the floor, “We returned to the mountain and tried to get in, but everything was sealed. We don’t know what happened inside.”

Lexa’s face grew cold, “Do you mean to tell me that you set foot on the mountain?” It wasn’t really a question, the man’s shame and fear made it obvious.

“Sha, Heda.”

“You will return to your post. Do not return until you know exactly what happened inside the mountain.” She turned away waiting for the sound of the scout standing and turning to leave,  “And if the Mountain Men come for retribution over breaking our word, I will ensure you survive long enough to feel far more than a thousand cuts.” She heard the scout freeze, before scurrying away. She wasn’t worried about him failing to return to his post. It would be a harsh death if he failed to follow orders again.

Lexa looked down at the cup in her hand, catching her reflection in the shimmering water. It hit a post, cup breaking and water splashing everywhere, Lexa stood heaving. “Heda?”

“It is nothing, leave me be.” She called back to the guard, no one could see her like this. Her hands were shaking, her breath coming too fast, and yet she somehow felt as though she were going to float free. She stumbled towards the bed, ripping off her heaviest fur, struggling to maneuver it through the shaking in her extremities. She bundled it around her as best she could before moving to her throne, curling into the seat as small as she could make herself. “Head over heart.” She mumbled to herself over and over again, the words becoming clearer as her panic settled, the mantra and the weight of the fur forcing her brain to focus on reality.

When the panic was fully gone, Lexa continued to lay curled onto her throne. It wasn’t comfortable, but her body felt heavy, worse than it ever could after a long day of training and sparring. She knew she should get up and return to her bed, there had been enough nights like this after Costia’s death that she knew how badly she’d hurt tomorrow even if she didn’t stay like this, but moving was just..too much. Lexa let her eyes droop, let the exhaustion take over. Sleep was better than thinking about what had happened in that mountain.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I hate chapter breaks and I do, but I couldn't avoid this *sigh*, anywho this is the last post for today (probably). Chapter warning: Bodily fluids - but not too terribly descriptive.

Clarke sat in a clearing, feeding the fire in front of her, the door to the Mountain at her back. She knew she should just let the fire die, it was past time to get to work, but she dreaded returning to that place. The walk yesterday had taken most of the day, she hadn’t planned to come back when she’d left Camp Jaha, so she’d had to backtrack several miles. What could have been an 8-hour walk turned into 11 and she was exhausted by the time she found herself back in this clearing. She’d tried to sleep, and it’d worked for a little while before the dream came back. This time at least she’d managed to wake up even before she fell into the water.

She glanced behind her at the door,  _ I just closed that damn thing _ she thought, sighing and shaking her head. It was foolish to think she could just lock it up and walk away. She stared at the door thinking. There had been over three hundred people living in those walls, a few dozen reapers, an unknown number of dead bodies tossed aside, and four of her own people. All of them lay dead inside or in the tunnels below.

So many different people left her with a challenge. Her people, and likely the Mountain Men would probably prefer to be buried in the ground, an almost impossible task with over 300 graves to dig. The grounders had shone their preference for the deceased bodies to be burned, but how did one person build pyres for so many people? Clarke threw a stick, this wasn’t a problem on the Ark. They just put their dead in an airlock and opened the door. Space took care of it...Though..How did the mountain men dispose of their dead if they couldn’t leave the mountain? Did they really waste their oxygen tanks and risk exposure to radiation to bury their dead? No, that wouldn’t make any sense. If the mountain was built to be a self-contained system, then they had to have a way to dispose of human remains.

Clarke stood and kicked dirt over the fire, if she could figure out how the mountain men addressed their dead – likely some sort of crematorium – then it would be doable. Back breaking work, but she would be able to honor all of the dead before….Well, before there was little left to honor.

She stood at the panel now and hesitated, but a quick swipe of the keycard and..nothing. Clarke stared at the panel, maybe she should swipe it again? She’d told Monty no codes. She reached up to swipe the card again when the panel lit up fully, a machine hum accompanying it. She waited a few moments longer before she heard the thunk of the door locks disengaging. The door was heavy, sweat was beading along her forehead by the time she got the door open enough for her to slip in. It took enough effort to open it she didn’t bother to pull it shut behind her, besides the air had gone a bit stale in the last 2 days.

She took the minute in the elevator to study the map. Whatever they had, it was probably on the third floor with Medical, though it hadn’t been obviously next to medical. And it wasn’t in Quarantine, though maybe it could have been at one point. It would be odd to have so much space left unused. The elevator dinged it’s arrival and Clarke looked to the door as it slid open.

The smell blasted into her, leaving her stumbling and retching. Even the acid on her tongue wasn’t enough to prevent the smell from coating her tasted buds. She kept heaving, hoping it would stop on its own, but every time it stopped she’d get another whiff and be off again. She ended up stumbling her way to medical, dry heaving the whole time. The smell was a bit better inside, only one person in here. She was grateful that the rubbing alcohol was sitting on a table. After a few deep inhales, the astringent smell cutting through the smells around her as well as the nausea she started looking through the cabinets. Hopefully they had..Yes! Clove oil. Not as good as mint oil, but it would be strong enough to cut some of the smell.

She looked around the room, starting towards the first door. It was locked, but a swipe of her keycard opened it up, thank god for Monty and the president’s keycard. The door led to a large storage room, there were enough medical supplies in here, Clarke was sure her mother would have cried if she’d known about it. A quick tour around the room confirmed that there wasn’t another door so she returned to the clinic.

The next door led into an office, nothing so fancy as the President’s office, but it was still large enough to contain a wall of books. Most of them she recognized, they’d been assigned reading for anyone wanting to follow a medical career path, but there were a few binders too. Clarke pulled down one, then the next. Each of the binders was labeled with a type of emergency; plague, nuclear bombs, reactor meltdown. The living dead one had Clarke scoffing, like that would ever happen. Finally, she found one that seemed to hold daily policies, the kind of thing everyone had had to read and practically memorize before they’d been allowed to start working in her mother’s clinic.

Clarke flipped through instructions on patient care, disaster protocol (apparently the room the grounders were caged in had been meant to serve as overflow for the clinic in case of an epidemic), cleaning practices, and the crematorium. Clarke tore the sheet out of the binder, the page had instructions for how to run it but didn’t actually give a location. She stuffed the sheet in her pocket and took off to find another door.

 

                                                                                ***********************************************

 

An hour later Clarke finally stood in front of the massive furnace, lights flashing on the control panel. The directions had said that it needed an hour to preheat, and she’d already figured out how to work the metal tub that slid into the furnace. Now it was time to get to work.

She went back into medical and pulled out all of the gurney’s she could find. Six wasn’t a lot, but it would be better than trying to carry fully grown men through the Mountain. She wheeled them out into the hall before looping them together, creating a train. Even though she passed bodies in the hall she kept going, she was going to start on the first floor and clear each floor completely before moving on to the next. It was the only way she could think of doing it to avoid missing anyone.

It took longer than she’d expected to get the gurneys into the elevator, four side by side and one across left just enough room for her to stand in one corner. It was tight and would be unpleasant when the gurneys were loaded, but at least she didn’t have to sit on one. Leaving the last gurney behind, she rode the elevator up to the entrance level. Clarke pulled one of the gurney’s out, there was only one who’d died up here. She wasn’t sure why they’d been up here, they were dressed as a guard but nothing had happened up here. Maybe they’d been told to stand guard up here in case the grounders came back? Like that was even a possibility.

Clarke looked at the body at her feet and tried to figure out how she was going to do this. Abby had taught her how to lift immobile patients a long time ago, but she’d only had to lift someone by herself once and that was years ago. Usually, there were at least two of them to do the lifting.

She stooped down, hauling the guard up by the front of his shirt to get her arm under his back before sliding her other arm under his legs. She swallowed hard as her arm glided through liquid, trying desperately not to think about it. She lifted, grunting as the weight fully hit her and staggered a bit as she turned to put the body on the gurney. She cursed as a foot hit the gurney, sending it rolling forward. She’d forgotten to lock the damn wheels.

It took another minute of maneuvering to get the body securely situated, she was not going to forget to lock the wheels next time, before she was done. She pushed the gurney towards the elevator, muscles shaking at the strain they’d just been forced to undergo. She left him by the door before doing a quick check of the entryway. One floor clear, 6 more and the tunnels to go.

 

                                                                                     *************************************************

Clarke lay on the ground, sprawled like a starfish on the uncomfortable concrete. She was exhausted, her muscles felt like jelly, she had more than a few cuts, burns, and bruises, her clothes were torn and soaked in sweat and fluids, but despite all of that, she felt numb. She wasn’t sure when she had started to feel that way. Maybe it was just walking, searching, through the aching emptiness of the Mountain. The entrance and levels one through four had been mostly clear, guards and just a few workers. Clarke was pretty sure it wasn’t the death on those levels, but the life that had been left behind, that bothered her so much.

Storage rooms were filled with art that made her chest ache, beautiful pieces of furniture, sculptures, jewelry, fabrics. Every kind of beautiful thing that she had ever read about or watched on TV shows, was there. Tucked into boxes, leaning against walls, draped over any semi-flat surface. This wasn’t from the Mountain. This was the remains of the world before the bombs dropped. Before the world ended in an explosion of heat, fire, and wind. These were the skeletons of a world that was long gone, destroyed and never to be regained, locked away in a bed of dust to be forgotten or discarded.

The agriculture rooms were beautiful, filled with large plants still luscious and strong. The smell of wet dirt, and that odd mix of living and rotting plants that marks all the best gardens. The hardest part though was the toys scattered throughout the aisles and underneath tables. It was obvious that children came in here to play, likely under their parents feet while they worked.

The labs were a lot more like what Clarke was used to, but even they had touches of the people who belonged there. Family photos, kids drawings, report cards, and even a few extremely misshapen statues on desks and shelves.

Seeing the bits of people’s lives had almost been worse than her actual task. She glanced over at the screen on the crematory. She had lost track of how many times she’d run it and it looked like she had another 5 minutes before it was time to start it all over again. She heaved herself up, pausing just long enough for her brain to figure out it was still attached to a body before she grabbed another gurney and dragged it over.

The alarm dinged and she hit the button, sliding the rack-thing out of the furnace and onto the loading tray. She managed to avoid any new burns this time, a good thing since the back of right arm felt like it was one big blister. She programmed the machine again and sighed. It was time to go to level 5. Clarke’s head dropped forward banging gently onto the wall. Most people had been confined to level 5, either in the residences or in the dining hall.

She grabbed the gurneys, relinking them and dragging them back down the hall, stopping only long enough to reapply the clove oil. It didn’t smell as strong as it did the first time she’d swiped it under her nose, maybe her sense of smell was going numb too. Either way, she didn’t want to risk having to throw up. Again.

Level 5 was..horrific. Clarke’s eyes started streaming as she exited the elevator, the squeak of the gurney wheels and the clang as they bumped against each other, disturbing. The hall wasn’t full, not like the dining room, but even here there were so many people. Some were huddled together, families it looked like, others looked like they had been moving before they fell. Trying to escape the radiation. She started lifting those closest to the door, anything to put off going into the dining hall just a little bit longer.

It wasn’t so much a noise really, they were too quiet for that, even here surrounded by concrete and technology, but Clarke almost dropped the body she was lifting as she became aware that she wasn’t alone.

She looked up, startled to find a half dozen grounders in front of her. Shaking her head didn’t get rid of them..maybe she was starting to hallucinate? She hadn’t really eaten anything since the walk back to the Mountain and that was…..Ok, no idea what time it was or even what day.

The grounders in front of her stood still, the only movement came from their eyes as they took in the hallway, littered with bodies burnt, bloated and distorted by death. They somehow seemed to come to a decision at the exact same time, though they didn’t communicate in any way that she could see.

The grounders stepped forward, one moving to help her lift the body she was struggling with, the rest moving to others, lifting them and carrying them to the waiting gurneys. They didn’t flinch or give any obvious expression when they touched the bodies, not at the smell or the way they felt. After the gurney’s were loaded they each lifted another body, holding them in their arms and stood, waiting.

“Lead the way, Wanheda.”

Clarke was confused, Wanheda? What was that? She shook her head, it wasn’t important. She pushed one gurney and pulled another behind her, leading the way to the elevator. They waited for her to position the gurneys in the elevator before they entered themselves, startling just slightly when it began to move.

They followed her through the empty third level into the harvest room, she refused to look behind her to see their faces as they walked past the cages that had held their people. The crematory was tucked into a corner that would have been closer to reach if not for the rows of metal.

The grounders behind her just watched as she stopped in front of the loading table. They waited until she gestured to them before they place their burdens on the table, not even flinching at the heat of it. Clarke turned back to program the machine again, while the grounders emptied the gurneys, lining the bodies up next to each other on the floor.

She double checked the crematory before leading the way back to the elevator, then back to the hallway, there was still so much work to be done.

 

                                                                                     **************************************************

  
  


“Wanheda, we shouldn’t be here.” The biggest grounder shifted and fidgeted, he looked like a kid that needed to use the bathroom. The others weren’t much better, they were obviously nervous. More emotion than Clarke had ever seen from any grounder. Instead of replying, she walked down the tunnel, hoping that she was going the right way.

The silence continued as she walked, making a turn here and there according to the training map she had in her hand, but despite the protest, she could hear the grounders behind her. Following her, as they had for however long now, as she took care of the dead. The inside of the Mountain had been cleared. Though the smell lingered, there were no bodies to come across anymore. These tunnels were the last place to hold the dead.

She tucked her map away as she saw the huge metal bin she’d fallen into with Anya the first time she’d been in these tunnels. She stepped up to the edge and reached in. Fox. Sterling. Zoe. Connor. There they were, just laying atop the bodies of the grounders, eyes open and unseeing.

Clarke had managed to save most of her people from this fate, but she was too late for these. They had died inside those walls, in pain, afraid.

“These are our people,” Clarke didn’t care that there was no ‘our’. They were separate people, but these people had died and been thrown away like trash. They were unified in their death, even if their living counterparts would never be unified. “They don’t deserve to be taken back inside.” She turned to look at the grounders beside her. “Will you help me build a pyre?”

They all bowed their heads, hitting their fists against their chests before each took position around the container. The wheels squealed horribly as they pushed, the heavy container resisting the movement.

They followed the rail track through the tunnels, the eerie feeling seeping into Clarke’s bones. This was both better and worse than being inside. Inside the mountain the only fear was hers. Her fear of her nightmare’s and her thoughts. Out here, the grounders flinched at every new sound, whether it was a noisy rat or the crunch of bones underneath their weight.

Clarke supposed she could understand. The  _ ripas _ were horrible and terrifying, and she had only had a few encounters with them. For these people, they had needed to be constantly aware of the  _ ripas _ and had to fight them often. It would be even worse if they ever encountered someone they previously knew. Turned into a monster by a drug and the evil of the Mountain Men.

“Have any of you lost someone to the Mountain?” Clarke didn’t even know why she’d asked and as soon as she had, she wished she hadn’t.

“Sev is the only one of us who has not lost a family member to the Mountain.” The big guy nodded towards one of the others, “But there is not any Trikru who does not know someone lost to this place.  _ Ouskejon, Boudalan,  _ and  _ Azgeda _ also live under the shadow of the Mountain.”

Clarke nodded, not really sure what to say. She had destroyed the mountain because they were planning to kill less than a hundred of her people. She hadn’t even considered asking for volunteers to donate bone marrow for more than a few minutes. There were enough people on the ark that if each person donated once they could have given a transplant to every Moutain Man. But if they had been willing to be patient they also could have made do with the 47. It would have taken a few years, but bone marrow regenerates.

The grounders had lost a lot more than she would have. It was why her mother and Kane were willing to consider going back inside, they hadn’t suffered for generations, they hadn’t even suffered for a month.

“Are..Are you ...” Clarke trailed off. She knew how the grounders treated Heda. They had a lot of faith in her, and disrespect was not tolerated. By anyone. “Do you feel cheated that I was the one to bring down the mountain men?” She couldn’t not ask with the way the big guy was staring at her.

He continued to look at her for a long moment before he looked away, “We have had no hope of ending this place. I wanted to honor my brother by avenging his death,” he paused, “But I will not argue with the Spirits who have decided to take vengeance themselves.”

Clarke stared at him trying to figure out what he meant by that. During her time spent with Le-Heda she had heard many people speak about spirits, but they had never explained anything about them. She tripped, stumbling over the uneven ground, and turned her focus back to putting one foot in front of the other.

The ground was getting more and more uneven, but the air was also getting fresher. It didn’t take long once she noticed that for the entrance to become visible, sunlight streaming into the tunnel, but only managing to reach a few feet before darkness overwhelmed it. The track stopped and they were out, out into the forest, out from the oppressive walls of the mountain. It was a relief, even as she began to follow the grounders into the woods where the trees towered over her and closed in, it was so much better than those walls had been.

 

Clarke stood a few feet from the blackened ash pile, letting the heat scorch into her skin and lungs. Even though the flames were no longer visible the heat was still intense enough that she didn’t feel like she could walk away. Heda had waited until the warriors around her had begun to scoop the hot ashes into pails and then poured water over the earth where the pyre had been laid. Only then had she walked away, Clarke following behind, not knowing what else to do. 

Maybe if one of the grounders had lit the pyre and said the death rite, maybe she could have walked away before it was done. Ok, probably not. But it had felt so..significant to be handed the torch this time. There was more weight to it, both her actions and the gaze of the men behind her, and Clarke was pretty sure it wasn’t because they knew she knew the rites this time.

“You must eat.” The voice startled her, leaving her feeling stupid. She knew they were there but she’d zoned out. She wasn’t even really able to respond before a wooden bowl was being shoved into ribs, the grounder walking away without waiting for a response. She looked at the bowl before glancing back at the group. Most of them were looking elsewhere, but the big one who seemed to be in charge was staring at her.

Clarke shifted feeling like a child under that stare, she made a face, but brought the bowl up and gulped its contents down. She swallowed it as fast as she could, not tasting it as it slid down her throat. That was mostly the point, she didn’t want to enjoy anything, but she had the feeling she would be glared at until she’d eaten it.

It seemed like they’d been waiting for her to eat because as soon as she finished the other grounders stood and joined her at the pyre. They stood in silence for a minute before moving in sync to the edges, emptying water skins over the ashes, before stirring through the ashes. It didn’t take long considering the size of the ash pile.

“We need to go and bathe now, Wanheda. We must wash away the remains of our work.” 

Clarke nodded not responding beyond that. She knew they were right, they were covered in fluids, dirt, sweat, and ash.

“I need to close the mountain. Go.” Clarke needed to lock the Mountain down once more, make certain that no other would attempt to assert dominance using its technology. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that the Arkers would be back for the mountain and its contents soon. Especially since the alliance had failed. They’d probably assume that the grounders were preparing for battle against them. Idiots.

The grounder still stood beside her, his protest silent but still present. Clarke rolled her eyes, it seemed to be a common thing for grounders. Expressing their displeasure without a sound. Anya, Indra, Gustus,..Heda had all done that. Quint had been only one to say what he thought, and he’d tried to kill her. 

“GO.” The growl that came from her throat startled Clarke as much as it seemed to startle the man beside her. He dipped his head before walking away, pausing only shortly to wait for the others to join him. 

Clarke watched as they walked through the small clearing until they disappeared into the treeline. Even when she could no longer see them she kept looking. Waiting, almost. But as each moment passed it seemed that something peeled away from her. Some fake shell that she’d been carrying around the others. It was an odd sensation, making her feel alien.

She shook her head, trying to shake it off. It didn’t work, but that really didn’t matter. She had no intention of rejoining those men. She hadn’t lied, the mountain did need to be closed back up. Locked once more. But this task was done. She had done all she could to pay the debt she owed to Maya, now it was time to leave. She turned and walked back into the tunnels, letting the darkness swallow her. 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little ick factor.

“We cannot wait any longer Heda. We must advance on Skaikru, there is no longer an alliance giving them permission to be there.” Titus was insistent and persistent. He had been going on about the same thing for the last week.

“We will not attack them. They have done nothing to break the alliance.” She didn’t need to add that she was the one who’d broken that agreement. “We will not begin a war simply because they might.”

“It doesn’t matter if they were not the ones to break the alliance, which was a foolish proposition anyway. They are invaders, they have no right to the land they have taken, and they don’t show any signs of realizing that. They are entitled and offer nothing to benefit us. There is no reason to permit them to stay. We should drive them out and take back what is ours.”

“It was a foolish proposition to return 400 of our people?” Lexa’s tone had hardened. Yes, she was incredibly annoyed at Titus’ constant harping, he had made his position clear, but 400 was not a small number of their people. And even if..even if the ones who’d been taken had been killed, there would be no more people taken and thrown into cages.  _ Ripas _ would still be a problem, but that was a much smaller number. 

Titus coughed, attempting to disguise his discomfort, “Of course not, but we could have gotten them back without an agreement with those invaders.”

Lexa rolled her eyes, “They provided information. Without that information, we would have just been a large army with nowhere to go, ripe for slaughter and not even a challenge for the Moutain Men.”

“And they wouldn’t have been able to get their people back without such a large force behind them!” 

Shame overwhelmed her, “Apparently that’s not true.” She looked away, focusing on the flame of one of the candles. Watching the flame was the first form of meditation she was ever taught, it was the only reason Anya had ever purchased candles, and it was still the fastest way to calm herself.

“We still don’t know if that’s true. You said the scouts didn’t actually know what happened.”

She scoffed, shoving her feelings down as far as they would go, “We know that Clarke and her people walked out of that Mountain, under no obvious threat. She managed to overcome the Mountain Men. That’s not in question, the question is how.”

A knock sounded on the door before it opened, showing her guards and..all six of the scouts that were supposed to be on the Mountain.

“What is the meaning of this?” Titus wore his confusion like he did his tattoos.

To a certain extent, Lexa couldn’t blame him. There was absolutely no reason for all six of them to be here. Only one was needed to provide a report and receive orders, the others should have been left behind on the Mountain, or in TonDC.

The same scout that had previously reported stepped forward, bringing his closed fist to his chest and bowing his head, “We have come from the Mountain. Indra instructed us all to come.”

Lexa’s eyebrows furrowed. Indra was not a woman to waste resources, and sending six scouts where one would suffice was absolutely a waste. “Speak.”

“I returned to the Mountain as you instructed. When I arrived one of the other scouts informed me that the Skaigada had returned to the Mountain a few hours before. We split up and watched the tunnels and the main door, but she did not leave for a full day. She had left the main door open behind her,” He paused, causing Lexa’s nostrils to flare, this guy had an annoying habit for dramatics. “I sent Sev into the Mountain.” One of the other scouts stepped forward.

“I entered the Mountain and found the first room and hallway empty. It was completely silent inside, the only thing I could find was human waste, puddled onto the middle of the floor. I came to a door that looked much like the lift here in the tower. I figured out how to open it and instruct it to move to a different floor.”

“I investigated every floor I could reach from the lift. I found roughly 350 of the dead in various rooms and hallways, with most of them in one large dining area. They looked to have been dead for many days, though I could not determine what killed them. There were no cuts, holes, or severe damage to their bodies in any way that could have killed them.”

“You’re saying they just dropped dead, in perfect condition?” Titus interrupted.

He shook his head, “They all looked to have been burned, but as I said, it had been several days. Their bodies were distorted with rot and covered in the usual excrement of death.”

Titus scoffed, “You missed something. The insects obscured the reason for their death.”

“There were no insects.”

Titus did a double take, and Lexa had to suppress the urge to laugh. This wasn’t funny at all, but he looked utterly ridiculous. The man was a terrible example for the  _ natblidas _ when it came to hiding his thoughts and feelings.

“How can there be no insects? If you leave a piece of fruit out for a few hours it attracts flies.”

“Every floor was closed off from the others. There were only insects in the first area after I entered the Mountain.” The scout shook his head, the insects or lack thereof was unimportant. “I saw the skaigada, she was pulling tables behind her. They contained some of the dead I had seen. I did not permit her to see me before I made my way back outside the Mountain.” He stepped back, allowing the first to step forward and become the speaker once more.

He looked to the others, seeming to hesitate again. If he didn’t get on with it he was going to be whipped. Finally, he noticed her face, the anger building there and he began. “We decided to enter the Mountain and offer our assistance in dealing with the dead.”

Lexa barely contained the sharp intake of breath, preventing it from being an outright gasp. Of course. Clarke had managed, somehow, to kill the Moutain men and she returned to care for their dead. Lexa turned away from the group needing just a moment. Clarke had shown in TonDC after Finn’s death that she cared for their death rites. Of course she would attempt to offer rites to those who had died for her people.

Lexa turned back and nodded for him to continue.

“She did not speak much to us, it was unnecessary. There was a piece of tech that burned the bodies quickly. We made many trips carrying the dead.” He glanced behind him, “We believe it took 5 days to complete, but we cannot be certain. There was no sunlight or candles to determine the passage of time and she refused to rest.”

Lexa shifted needing to tamp down her emotions somehow. Clarke had struggled to sleep before the march to the mountain began and then she hadn’t slept for five days in a row. 

“We managed to get her to sleep twice..we put some herbs in her soup. Which we barely managed to make her eat.” That didn’t surprise Lexa either, her skai girl was terrible about taking care of herself. “When we finished burning the bodies of the Mountain Men she led us into the tunnels. We took those of our people who had been there and removed them from the tunnels. Under her instruction, we built a pyre and burned the bodies of our people and four of hers.”

“Our people? Warriors from before we retreated off the Mountain?” Titus questioned. “Or  _ Ripas?” _

Lexa froze, she hadn’t shared with anyone other than Indra what Clarke had told her about their people. About the cages.

“That doesn’t matter.” She could tell him later when they didn’t have an audience that had likely lost family and friends to those cages.

“After the pyre, we tried to get her to come with us. We were covered in filth and needed to wash before any of us became sick. She insisted that she needed to return to the Mountain to close it.”

“Are you attempting to tell me that you,  _ gonas _ and scouts of the  _ kongeda _ could not subdue one untrained sky girl?” Titus scoffed.

“We would not disrespect her, by attempting to force our will on hers.” All of the scouts were looking at their feet now. Lexa couldn’t tell if it was shame but it didn’t seem to be. It almost seemed to be reverence..

“Disrespect?!” The rage in Titus was palpable, almost a living thing.

“ _ Em Pleni! _ ” Lexa took a few steps away from her throne, did she really want to know? “Why would you fear disrespecting Clarke?”

“She is honored by the spirits.” The youngest, barely old enough to have left his  _ fos _ spoke up, “We would never disrespect the spirits. Wan-”

“No.” Lexa cut him off, he could not speak that name. “Do not speak that name, or call her that.”

She saw Titus give her an approving nod, likely because he would not believe that an untrained sky girl could become the Commander of Death. Truthfully, Lexa could not bear to hear Clarke called such. It was not easy to be Heda. To be led by the spirits of those who had come before her and to bear the weight and responsibility for so many people. To be the commander of death, though, if possible that was even worse. It would mean that Clarke could command life and death. She had struggled so much with the idea of sending a thousand warriors to fight the Mountain, but if she joined with Wanheda….She would see so much more death than that.

“Do not speak of Clarke to anyone. You may bear witness to the fact that the Mountain men have fallen, but that is it.” She waved her hand in dismissal, “You may go,” She glanced at Titus, “All of you.”

She walked to the balcony set behind her throne and leaned against the railing, and sighed. If Clarke was Wanheda, it would not be last she saw of her and that was something to look forward to. But Clarke would be furious that she left, and combine that with the fury of Wanheda...Peace might not be so peaceful for a while.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not long, but it's needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: This chapter contains self-harm. Most of it is more purposeful self-neglect, but there is a portion where actual cutting occurs. (Paragraph starts with <> skip to the next if needed)

Clarke stumbled down the mountain front, shaking her head every so often, trying to clear it. She’d felt this way a few times this week, lightheaded, spacey, and disconnected. It felt like she would just float away in a blink if she wasn’t careful.

She knew she was heading in the opposite direction of the grounders. She didn’t want to travel with them. Not back to TonDC and not back to _her_ , either. She figured she’d find a stream or something somewhere along the way and clean up. Though..shit. She had planned to grab a change of clothes. Even though she hated the idea of taking anything from the mountain, her clothes were unbearable filthy.

She tugged at the fabric of her jacket, grimacing as it stuck to the shirt underneath, slowly sucking away with a wet flap. The material was so gross that she didn’t actually mind that it was torn and ripped, even burned in some places. Oh well, she shrugged, couldn’t be fixed now. Maybe it would keep the pretty girl away. She giggled, Lexa was absolutely fastidious about being clean, scrubbing away with soap and water the second she noticed any dirt.. _Fastidious_ she snorted, fastidious sounded like tiddies, she giggled a bit more her head swimming with bubbly sound.

She stumble-stepped, swaying into the motion like a drunkard, it was nice. Like dancing. Or rocking with her Dad. That was always wonderful, he’d wrap her up in his arms when she was little and he’d sway and hum, sometimes he’d twirl and practically jump around. When she was older he’d wrap her in a hug and sway on the spot, unable to stand still.

Clarke was startled when the swaying stopped, when did she lie down? She pressed her cheek into the dead leaves, inhaling deeply. There was nothing like the smell of leaves, living or dying. It all smelled so good down here, well except for when it smelled bad. Then it smelled really bad. Like inside the mountain. That was the worst smell ever. Clarke grabbed a handful of the leaves and brought them to her nose, this was a much better smell. The ark never smelled like this. Even in Agro station.

She pushed herself back up, sort-of. She ended up sort of bear crawling for a few feet until she was next to a tree, using it to help herself climb upright. She leaned against it, the bark rough on her face and closed her eyes. She hugged the tree tighter, maybe this would be an ok place to nap, she sighed, yeah..a nap. She held on letting the tree stabilize her while she relaxed...and fell to the ground again. She glared at the tree. Stupid tree, she just wanted a nap. It should let her nap. She hauled herself up again pushing away from the mean tree this time. She’d just find another tree. A nicer tree.

She kept putting one foot in front of the other, her eyes were blurry, the edges of vision dark and blotchy, it didn’t matter. It was almost like taking a nap. She stumbled again, her ankle turning into the dirt and she dropped, tumbling down the side of a..something. Rolling and bumping her way down, not even aware of the bruises and scrapes marking their way across her skin. The splash of water against her face and chest made her jerk away, rolling onto her back. The spinning was even worse now than when she’d been rolling down the hill, her eyes drooped closed and she let it take her away.

_Clarke was freezing, ice forming on her eyelashes and underneath her nose with every exhale. She shivered, chattering in place, unable to move or even to twitch. Her view shifted flipping upside down and began swaying side-to-side in a steady rhythm. Her brain refused to work, to translate what was happening and it was only when the view shifted again flipping upright and still that she realized she had been carried. She was placed on the ground, moved until she was sitting, before a robed figure backed away, finally coming into focus. The figure crouched in front of her, unmoving. Not even the slight shifting of shoulders to give away that she was breathing._

_“Who are you, what do you want?” Clarke asked._

_The figure shifted, allowing Clarke to see behind them. A field replaced the trees, empty at first, but streams of people, shrouded as well, began filling the space, packing in shoulder-to-shoulder until there was no space left in the field. One of the figures stepped forward, stopping just short of the other and it was only then that Clarke realized how big the first figure was. They towered over the second figure, who was reaching up to their hood. Clarke dreaded the hood moving, it wasn’t something she understood, but she knew that whatever was underneath the hood would not be pleasant._

_The hood fell back, allowing Maya’s face to look back at her. It was different this time though, Last time Maya had worn the burns she’d carried when she died, now her skin was unmarked. Maya’s robes suddenly changed to the clothes she’d been wearing, and with a quick glance behind Maya, Clarke saw that only the extremely tall figure remained robed and hooded._

_“It was not enough, Clarke.” Maya’s voice was hard, sharpened to a brutal point. “Burning our bodies was not enough.”_

_Clarke was silent, Maya was right. How could burning their bodies instead of leaving them to rot possibly make up for killing them? “What do you want?”_

_“We want you to free us.” Maya practically growled._

_“How do I do that?” Clarke shook and shivered, the words shaky and breathless._

_“Free us.” Maya demanded again._

_“I-I don’t know how! Tell me how!” She pleaded, straining to reach forward, begging Maya to tell her._

_The area shifted again, swirling and blending in a kaleidoscope of colors, before steaming into shape, forming a cave. The cave was fairly small, big enough for a pile of furs, a line of equipment along one wall and a fire, popping and cracking near a fur draped across the entrance. Clarke stared at the fire, tears streaming down her face. It wasn’t enough. What could she do?_

_There was a shift and a whisper of sound, yanking Clarke out of her head._

_“You must decide.” The voice was sonorous and rich, sounding like many voices, yet still obviously one._

_“Decide what?”_

_“You must decide.” The figure stated again, shifting towards the fire. “When you decide, I will join you.”_

_“Decide what?!” Clarke yelled, her fear smothered underneath a sudden pop of rage and confusion. “Tell me!”_

_“Decide.”_

 

Clarke sucked in a breath, spluttering as water splashed from her flailing arms into her face. She hauled herself into a seated position, upper body swaying as dizziness hit her once more. She scrubbed across her face with her wet hands, not so much to clean her face, but to wake herself up.

She turned over onto her hands and knees, every movement slow and specific. Why did she feel like this? It was like moving through mud, her limbs heavy and shaking with effort. She attempted to pull herself onto just her knees but fell back unable to support her own body weight. She gave and just crawled out of the stream, letting herself drop once she reached the first tree.

She settled back down, no energy left to do anything, even avoiding sleep and freaky, confusing dreams. She stared straight ahead. She wouldn’t fight sleep, but she didn’t have to sleep on purpose. She let her eyes lose focus, blurring everything in front of her until they slid closed again.

  
                                                                             **************************************************************  
  
  


“Why do you keep following me? Just tell me what you need. Anything. And I’ll give it to you.” Clarke pleaded, begging her. “Please, please, please.” She rocked, hands wrapped around her knees. “Just tell me, or leave me alone.”

There was no response. The lack of response was the only way she could tell she was awake anymore. Maya only talked to her in her sleep. When she was awake, she just followed her. Sometimes it was Maya alone, other times it was Finn or Wells or Atom or, even worse, her dad. When she was awake, it was only people she knew, people she had spoken with. In her dreams, person after person came up to her, demanding that she free them. Most of them were faceless, terrifying shadows were features should have been, but the people she knew were the ones that would strike her in her dreams. Blows landing across her body as they spoke with a disparate calm, demanding she let them be free.

The dreams were so bad that sleep was no longer restful, let alone an escape from anything. It had only taken a few days for Clarke to realize that not eating anything forced her to sleep more, so she’d finally eaten. Just a few berries and a handful of nuts. Not enough to stave off the hunger twisting in her stomach, but enough so she had the energy to resist her body shutting down.

The same went for water, she drank just enough to keep herself functioning, but not enough to ease the cracking and bleeding of her lips. Not enough to ease the burn in her throat. The fact that she didn’t have enough fluids to bleed from her many injuries was just a little bonus.

She continued to rock.

  
  
                                                                                   *************************************************************  
  
<>

Clarke watched as the blood welled up in a thin line, the edges of the fluid constrained by tension until it became too big, and started running down the side of her leg, dripping off in the ragged material of her..pants. They weren’t really pants anymore, with a hole that ran from knee to upper thigh, but they were all she had and they gave easy access. She continued to watch, following the slow flow of blood. The pain was already fading now that the jagged edge of the rock she held was no longer pressed into her skin.

On the Ark, she’d never understood why people would do this. What purpose did it have? It was never bad enough to kill them, and every single one who’d ended up in the Medbay would make sure to tell whoever was listening that they didn’t want to die. It was always that their hand had slipped, or they just forgot about it and didn’t clean it and that was why it was swollen and angry.

Now though she got it. It wasn’t about the injury or even the pain. Everything else, the anger, the fear, the exhaustion, it all just backed down for a bit. It felt like laying down on a nice bed after a long day. You’re still tired, you’re still achy, but the bed just makes it all better, even though it’s all still there.

She stared at the new mark, added to a dozen others marking their way across her upper thigh. She brushed her fingers over them. They weren’t healed, and two of them were looking a bit infected. Clarke shook her head, it was only what she deserved, so many were dead because of her, why did she deserve to live?

  
  
  
                                                                                  ******************************************************************  
  
  


Clarke lay on the forest floor, half buried under debris that had been picked up in the increasingly bitter wind. She closed her eyes, sighing into the sharp burn as it brushed past her heated skin. Her eyes slowly opened, she had been struggling for days to find enough food. Berries were vanishing, nuts were harder to find, and she didn’t recognize any of the roots on the forest floor. Of course, that could have been her eyes, they’d been blurry and hazy for a while now.

Now with this fever..maybe, this would be it. Maybe this would be the day that it would all stop. She would no longer need to face the souls of the dead demanding a freedom she couldn’t give. She would no longer have to see the dreams, increasingly confusing and terrifying every time she had one, whether she was awake or asleep.

This could be done. All of it, over with. She glanced down at her leg, knowing it was inflamed and red, without being able to actually see it. It wasn’t the only infection source, she’d found a few bad cuts after a couple of falls. They weren’t even her worse injury. A fall down the edge of a cliff a while ago had left her with a massive bruise spreading across her ribs. At least one was broken, probably more. Every breath causing her pain that she didn’t bother to ease or control. She deserved this. She deserved all of this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short today. I may or may not post again this weekend, I've got 12 hours of travel tomorrow and won't be back til next week. Enjoy!

Clarke woke slowly, swimming her way out of sleep with a leisure she hadn’t been given in months. Her head was fuzzy, groggy and thick with the sleep that still called out to her, trying to tug her back. Her eyes began to droop closed before movement caught them, pulling them again. A figure moved towards her, causing panic to rise that the hooded figure was with her once more, but this time there was no hood, just a face. One that she recognized. She struggled to clear her head, fighting the inevitable. 

“Shhhhh. Sleep.” And sleep pulled her under once more.

  
                                                                        ******************************************************  
  


Clarke gasped and spluttered, choking on the fluids dribbling down her throat. She tried to pull away when the flow stopped, but it didn’t last long. As soon as she stopped choking, more was tipped into her mouth. She flailed, trying to force it to stop, but her arms just moved wildly, not making contact with anything, or at least not to any effect. As soon as it stopped she panted, trying to catch her breath, but she was asleep before even that happened.

  
                                                                           ********************************************************  
  


“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” The mantra was barely heard in the distance, repeated over and over as Clarke struggled to breathe, every inhale felt like it was mud and every exhale was a shallow pant that wasn’t far from a death sigh. It was so hard to breathe that she couldn’t even focus long enough to register the arms around her, wrapping her up tight and encouraging her to follow their breathing. The only time the arms let her go was when they offered some warmed liquid, tipping it down her throat without consideration for the fact that she couldn’t go without breathing that long.

  
  
                                                                             ***************************************************************  
  
  


For the first time in what seemed like forever, Clarke awoke to calmness. There was no struggle to breathe, gasping for air that just wouldn’t enter her lungs. No fluid filling her mouth, nowhere to go but down. Despite the fact that her breathing was easier, she didn’t feel any better. In fact, it almost seemed as though her body was too heavy even to struggle for air. She shivered, chills running through her entire body and let herself sink back into sleep.

  
                                                                            ************************************************************  
  
  


Clarke didn’t even bother to open her eyes. The dancing and flickering light was so bright that it hurt her head even through her closed eyelids. She tried to back away from the heat of the flames, it was so intense that her skin prickled and burned, only to bump into a solid weight behind her. The weight shifted and muttered before molding even more fully with her back. Her skin hurt so much that she barely registered the sensation of naked skin against her own. She tried to find a balance between the raging fire in front of her and the overwhelming heat of the exposed skin behind her.  It wasn’t possible, both burned her, sending pricks of pain through her entire body. It hurt so much that Clarke could do nothing but sigh into the pain and let it wash her away.

  
                                                                          ****************************************************************  
  
  


Clarke’s eyes floated open, slow and weighty like an air balloon with the temperature just a touch too low. It took a moment to focus on the figure crouched by the blazing fire, and even when she had, she made no effort to move or even twitch. 

Despite that, warm eyes raised from the blade in calloused hands to meet hers, “Decide to join the living again?”

Clarke closed her eyes, the first purposeful movement she’d engaged in since she’d lain on the forest floor. 

“If you plan on joining the dead, I’d appreciate you letting me know. I’m not inclined to wasting my time.” The voice was steady and even but seemed more a statement than a request for a response.

A sigh was heard, “Well, sleep then.”

Clarke let herself relax and her breathing even out, sleep came so fast she almost didn’t hear the muttered, “Since you’re so _joking_ good at it.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify...Clarke is septic and hypothermia can be a symptom. Her caretaker is NOT taking advantage, but skin-to-skin contact can help with raising the body temp.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke wakes up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on posting until next week, but I LOVED all the comments (I wanted to respond, but knew that if I tried I'd totally end up spoiling shit). SO here's another chapter and I'd adore more comments, I've got that same long-ass drive tomorrow and it was so nice to have your messages to break it up.

“Come on, open your eyes.” The voice floated through the air.

Clarke opened her eyes, still blurry and crusty, but more useful than they had been in recent memory. A cup, rough-hewn, thunked down on the floor in front of her with a terse, “Drink.” Thrown at her with it. She reached for it with a trembling hand, sloshing some of the contents onto her hand to dribble onto the floor.

She pushed herself up, half rolled onto her side with shaking limbs, but she managed to support herself while she drank. The herbs were bitter and awful tasting, but she was so thirsty she couldn’t bring herself to mind too much. Only when the cup was drained, did she think to look for the person who had offered it. They were by the entrance to the..cave, already pulling a cover back and stepping outside. It left her alone, but Clarke didn’t mind much, already feeling sleep pulling at her once more, but this time with more of an insistent tug than the unavoidable yank.

  
  
  


Her eyes popped open, snapping to focus with hyper-clarity on the hooded figure standing in front of the cave entrance. The hood dropped back, revealing tawny blonde hair, dark brown eyes and cheekbones sharp enough to chisel rock.

“Why are you here, Anya?” Clarke asked, her voice stronger and clearer than it had been since before she’d pulled that lever. “Why have you come?”

“Why have I come?” Anya repeated.

“Why are here? Why now? Why have you come when you haven’t been here before?”

Anya cocked her head, looking at Clarke quizzically.

“Why are you following me? Why won’t you leave me alone? What do you want from me?!” Her voice raising with each question.

Anya walked closer, crouching down between Clarke and the fire, “What do you think I want from you?”

“Freedom.” Clarke spat, the word dripping venom.

“Freedom from what?”

“Freedom from me!” Clarke exploded.

Anya just looked at her, waiting.

“But I don’t know how to free you from me.” Clarke wilted, body drooping, “I don’t even know how to free me.”

Anya turned away, lifting a pot from beside the fire, pouring the contents into another wooden cup. She held it out, waiting until Clarke had propped herself up once again and taken hold of the cup before she let go. She watched Clarke drink it down, and took the cup back, setting it beside her. She pulled the blanket up, covering Clarke’s shoulders. 

“I am here to show you how.” She slowly stood, straightening to her full height, “Sleep.” She turned and walked to the entrance, once more lifting the cover out of the way.

  
  
  


“You reek. You will bathe yourself, or I will walk you down to the river and throw you in.” Anya stood, arms crossed over her chest. A bucket of water with a cloth hanging off and a small lump of something sat in between them.

“I’d like to see you try.” Clarke sniped back, in no mood to argue yet again.

They’d been arguing for two days now, first, it was 'drink the herbs', then it was 'sit up', then move around. Now it was bathing. Stupid hallucinations. This one, unlike the others, didn’t sit there quietly and glare at her while she was awake. Nor did it join in on the beat-the-shit-out-of-Clarke parties that happened in her sleep, so she was having a hard time telling for sure when she was awake or asleep.

Anya’s eyes squinted before an eyebrow rose. She walked away and Clarke felt a vague sense of victory. This was the first time she’d gotten any of them to back off, maybe it meant she was close to figuring out how to get them to go away. Anya ripped the cover off the entrance, baring the cave to weak sunlight before she turned back and stalked towards Clarke with purpose.

For the first time since she’d first seen Anya, Clarke felt fear rise inside of her. That was not a nice look, it was rather..intimidating. She barely had time to twitch before Anya had scooped her up, grunting just a bit as she stood fully, and began walking out of the cave and down a hill. Clarke didn’t really know what to do or how to react. Where was this dream Anya taking her?

“AHHH!” Clarke practically squealed as the arms underneath her suddenly dropped and she followed, landing with a splash in frigid water.

“I am not a dream. I am real. And you reek.” She walked away leaving a stunned Clarke sitting in the water, just staring at her.

She still hadn’t moved when Anya returned offering the cloth and the small lump, “You will undress, wash with this soap,” She lifted the lump, “And then you will wash your clothes. You reek worse than a Pauna.”

Clarke gave herself a subtle sniff, “I can confirm.” She ignored the surprised look on Anya’s face and reached for the soap, ignoring the internal melt-down going on as best she could.

“Soo….You’re really not dead?” Clarke was now in the process of scrubbing at the rags Anya had called clothes.

“I’d say obviously,” Anya paused, “But considering the dreams you seem to be having, that may not be as obvious to you as it is to me.”

“I..How do I know?” Clarke didn’t know if she even wanted this to be real. Anya had been a pain in the ass from the beginning, but Le-Heda; Heda had been obviously upset at the news of her death. Or, well, as upset as any of the grounders seemed to get about anything.

“I don’t know, How do you know?” 

“Wow. You are  _ so _ not helpful.” Clarke scrubbed a little bit harder, “You should meet my friend Raven, she’d say the say damn thing and expect it to be helpful too.”

“How do you know that  _ you _ are real?”

Clarke just stared, “Are we seriously going to get into a discussion about existentialism?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Anya reached over and grabbed the cloth out of her hands, holding it up to show that Clarke had scrubbed right through the holes for the laces, leaving a thumb-sized hole in each spot. “These are useless.” She tossed the pants to the side before grabbing the shirt. It was in slightly better condition, so long as Clarke didn’t mind exposing her sides where the stitching had given. She tossed those to the side too, “Stay here.”

Clarke wanted to argue, but really where was she going to go while bare-ass naked. It was humiliating enough to have Anya see her. If she hadn’t fallen over in the water just a few minutes after Anya let go, she’d have insisted Anya leave so she could bathe in privacy.

“These won’t fit, but at least I won’t have to look at your scrawny ass and flabby stomach.” Anya dumped the clothes onto Clarke’s lap. “How is that even possible, by the way? I’ve never seen someone who was so thin and so flabby at the same time. Other than you  _ skai _ people anyway.”

“Food was scarce on the ark, there was only enough to keep you alive and functioning, which is why we are all so  _ thin _ .” Flabby was just an unflattering word. “And because of the restrictions on food, water, and air we weren’t allowed to exercise. Not that we had the energy to do that in the first place.” Clarke had been tugging on the too-small clothes while she spoke. They actually fit fairly well, except for over her ass and breasts. Those were both practically falling out of the material.

“Exercise?”

“Yeah..You know where you go through certain movements in order to get faster or stronger. Or more flexible. And you just do it over and over again.”

“Ah, training.” Anya nodded her head in understanding.

“Um, sort of.” Clarke made a face, “I’ve seen how you guys train, and that’s not quite what I mean. You do some of it, like the running and swimming, and I think I’ve seen some of the warriors doing squats.” Anya nodded. “But we will also lift something that’s heavy over and over again in different ways to build muscle.”

Anya furrowed her eyebrows, “Why would you do that?”

“So we can lift heavy things more easily…”

“But that doesn’t help you move it, or overpower your opponent, or work more.”

“No, but we didn’t have to move heavy things very often and when we did we had tech that would help us. We didn’t have opponents and even if we did, fighting would get you floated, and most people didn’t have a super physical job. The most physical job was on Agro, growing the crops.” Clarke explained, “Well and Raven’s job.”

“A bird had a job?”

Clarke chuckled, “No, Raven’s my friend.” She paused, she’d kind of forgotten everything for a few minutes. Well, not forgotten, but it had faded from the front of her mind, “Or she was.”

Anya left that alone, gesturing for Clarke  hold onto her arm so they could head back towards the cave, “I need to go back if you want to eat tonight.”

  
                         
  


Clarke sat across the fire from Anya, staring through the flickering flames at her. She’s been sitting, watching her for long enough that whatever Anya was cooking had started to smell heavenly, and Clarke’s stomach was now churning in hunger. It hadn’t taken very long for her body to adjust to eating food again, and now going without for too long left her in pain. Though maybe that was because she was still too damn weak to do anything and her mind could didn’t have much else to really distract it.

“Have you decided what makes something real?” Anya smirked at her, eyes focused on the bubbling pot, “Or someone.”

Clarke just glared.

“Or you could just accept that reality is what you perceive in any given moment.” Anya looked up at her, eyes locking and boring in, “At this moment, this is reality. When you sleep; that is reality.”

“Urgh! Why are you sooo….” Clarke waved her hand in the air.

“Because you insist on knowing.”

“Well, of course I need to know,”

“Why?”

“Well because if I start behaving as though  _ this _ is reality and its not, then I’m insane.” Clarke tore her eyes away. She didn’t want to continue on, because really, she was pretty sure her sanity wasn’t so secure no matter what.

Anya let the silence fill the space for a bit, and Clarke thought that maybe she was going to leave it alone.

“When they took me to the mountain..”Anya trailed off, “The Mountain men in their suits came up to us, the  _ ripas _ and my people, and there was a sharp pain. I could not stop myself from falling into sleep; and when I woke I was locked into a cage. My cage was one of many, and they were all filled with my people. That was..bad enough. But then I watched as the mountain men came and subdued my people with their lightning sticks before they hung them..us..up by our ankles and allowed our blood to flow out of our bodies like deer being drained for meat.” 

Anya stopped speaking, only beginning again when Clarke looked up at her, “I understand the need to survive; the willingness to do whatever it takes, no matter how awful it is.” Anya looked ashamed as she admitted that, “When you walked into that room; walked past my cage, I could have let you go. Not said or done anything. If being inside of the Mountain was a nightmare than it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“But it wasn’t a nightmare.”

“Wasn’t it?” Anya asked her. “I accepted an early death before I ever became a second. My family was poor; too many children that survived long enough to be a burden, but not long enough to actually help. Death was not a scary thing for me.” Anya pulled out her knife and a stone to run along the edge, “The mountain has always been the thing that I feared. If it spat out the horrors that are the  _ ripas _ , what did it do to the ones it kept?”

The schick of the stone running across the blade formed a hypnotizing rhythm, “I’m still not sure if what I found inside of the mountain was better or worse than what my mind created. Then the stories told by old warriors by the fire, or even the threats made by my  _ fos _ when I didn’t pay attention to my lessons.” Anya shook her head, “We can only guess at what is real, for all we know we have all been given jobi nuts and are having the same hallucination triggered by a storyteller.” Anya ignored the questioning sound that Clarke couldn’t stop from escaping. “But if we accept that what we see, hear, and feel is reality, then that means we are also accepting that we can affect it, we can change it. And maybe that is the problem, you do not want to accept that the people you see in your dreams are really there; really following you, because then it will mean that you have to do something about it.”

“How..Why?” Clarke couldn’t even think of what her actual question was, she just knew she didn’t quite understand.

Anya offered her a small smile, barely a twitch of one cheek, “Do you think you are the only person who has ever been haunted by their choices? You are not the first leader I’ve been called to teach.”

Clarke looked away, trying not to think of another leader Anya trained. She narrowed in on the bowls and stood slowly to grab them, decided that the soup was more than ready to eat. She ladled the soup into the bowls, handing one to Anya before settling back onto the cave floor; a little closer this time. “Considering the choices of the last one, I’m not sure you should be bragging about that.”

“You are still a child.” Anya’s voice was sharp and blunt, startling Clarke, “You may have made hard decisions, but you are behaving like a child who recognized that there was no food and so gave it to a sick sibling, but now you cannot cease your whining caused by an empty stomach. Lexa made a choice, and no matter what the outcome of that choice she will accept the consequences. Even if they mean living a life in pain.”

Clarke had no answer for that, so she just ate her soup.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW - Mention of Self-harm.

Clarke lay on the floor of the cave, cushioned only by a single large fur. She had entered that weird phase of healing where she was still exhausted, but her body would no longer let her sleep all day. It was irritating that it left her with nothing to do but lay there, the boringness filling her mind with ceaseless thoughts.

It had been fairly simple to avoid while Anya was still in the cave with her, she could simply watch what the other woman was doing, and when her mind started to wander she could ask questions. Too bad Anya didn’t hesitate to leave the small cave whenever Clarke annoyed her, or she just didn’t want to be stuck inside anymore.

It was hard to complain about Anya leaving though, she usually came back with some sort of meat, roots, or nuts to fill their stomachs with. If it wasn’t food, she returned with wood for the fire or water for drinking or bathing. Clarke had spent another two days delirious with a fever after her dunk in the stream, and Anya made it clear she would do it again to avoid living in the small space with Clarke’s stench.

Clarke shifted trying to find a more comfortable spot. It actually wasn’t too bad, sleeping on the smoothed rock floor, but when she’d been laying on it all day her still healing broken rib would protest, starting with a dull ache that built into an echoing roar that couldn’t be escaped. Only then did she suppress her pride enough to ask Anya to help her stand upright and walk around, never venturing farther than the fire’s glow from the entrance.

A huff escaped her, she could try to distract herself as much as possible, with pain and annoyance, but it didn’t really help. Her mind returned to the dreams, always the same people, always the same demand - Freedom. Now Anya was starting to make comments, nothing specific, nothing that Clarke could point at and say ‘that!’, but she made comments about the spirits, about funeral rites and about Clarke knowing..something, that it was impossible to ignore. Anya knew something. Or had some stupidly specific ideas about what was going on in Clarke’s head, but she refused to give a straight answer, even going so far as to claim that she had never been straight before, so why start now. That comment had startled Clarke a bit, of all the slang that could possibly survive the nuclear apocalypse - straight jokes were it. Next Anya would start making dad jokes.

Clarke twitched, speak of the devil- Anya had just appeared at the uncovered entrance like a ghost taken solid form. She slung a bag down to rest against the wall with a small thump before stalking further into the cave.

“Well, your fight didn’t end while I was gone,” Her eyes roamed Clarke checking for any new injuries. She'd returned during one of Clarke’s fevers to find the blonde with a burning stick pressed into her thigh, joining the rows of scarring flesh. “Any chance you’re going to move sometime today?”

Clarke’s nostrils flared, “Why do you keep coming back?”

“For  _ keryon _ sake, please tell me we aren’t going back to that whole real/not real shit.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, before pushing herself up to a seated position, it was slow and painful but she got there eventually, “You’re too irritating to not be real.”

Anya pulled out a pouch that was tucked into one of many pockets on her coat. She tossed it towards Clarke, jerking her chin towards it. “Eat.”

Clarke slowly reached for it, pulling it towards her. There was a handful of nuts and some sort of berry. She dropped some of the berries into her mouth and flinched at the sharp bitter tang the hard little balls released in her mouth.

“We will need to move on in the next few days, there’s nothing left to forage and the small animals are starting to tuck away or leave for the winter.”

“We?” Clarke was surprised, she’d half expected to just wake up one morning to find Anya go- “Wait, WINTER?!”

“It is what we call the cold season,” Anya stated, munching on her own handful of nuts. Clarke noticed she hadn’t eaten any of the bitter berries yet. 

“I know what winter is..I’ve just never had one.” Clarke started sorting through the last bit of what was in the pouch, avoiding the berries and finishing the nuts. “What’s it like?”

“Cold.” The word was sharp and made it seem like Anya wouldn’t continue. 

“That’s it?”

Anya sighed, “Winter..is a difficult time for my people. It gets colder and colder until anyone left without protection will not wake up in the morning. If the harvest was poor many starve - sometimes whole villages succumbing.” Anya focused on the flames, “There is good to it as well. Warriors return home during the coldest months, families spend time together, skilled trade flourishes when everyone is confined indoors.”

“Warriors return home?”

Anya nodded, “If we are not at war, many warriors return home at harvest. Every extra hand helps. It’s why there were so few warriors at the Mountain, Heda did not want to risk a poor harvest.”

“That was a  _ few _ warriors?” Clarke has surprised, there had been at least a thousand warriors in the camp, waiting on the moment they could storm the mountain. 

Anya hummed, “Those of us without a family tend to stay with our unit until we can no longer travel. Only then do we return to our homes.”

“What does a warrior do when they’re stuck at home?”

“We still scout the area around our home. We hunt, fish, train; Whatever we can to avoid boredom. Those who are wealthy enough to afford a personal horse may travel between villages, or to Polis.”

Clarke nodded absorbing the information. It sounded a lot like what the first settlers of this country would do during the winter. Mostly just wait it out. “And you?”

“I have a small home that I use when I need to, but I’m usually in Polis during the winter months.” Anya’s face had shut down a bit, evening out so that even her microexpressions were gone.

“With Lexa?” She forced herself to say the name without stuttering.

“I used to.” Anya stood, turning away from Clarke and the conversation reaching to grab the bag she had left behind. She brought it back over by the fire, settling down near it and began pulling out loose bunches of plants, all different kinds mixed together. 

Clarke shuffled over in an odd butt-scoot motion, not wanting to get up, but curious. She reached out and picked up some of the plants, bringing them to her nose. “What are these?”

Anya raised an eyebrow, the vaguest hint of a smirk showing up at one corner of her mouth, “Plants.”

Clarke clutched the flowered head in her hand, causing Anya to reach over and remove it quickly, 

“I don’t suggest destroying this one unless you are ready to be done with the pain tea before bed.” Anya placed the bright red flower next to the stone set she’d been using to grind up the tea she made every evening. “This is poppy,” She squeezed the base of the flower, a white liquid oozing out into the stones depression.

“Poppy..Opium?” Clarke asked.

“I don’t know what Opium is, but we use poppy seeds for pain. They grow in the lower part of  _ Trikru _ and Shallow Valley, and  _ only _ during a small part of the year.” Anya carefully tucked the flower head back into the bag. “Those other ones need to be dried to replace what I’ve used while caring for you.”

Anya sorted through the plants, gather stalks of the same kind into bunches before showing Clarke how to wrap the stems in twine. She combined them into bunches, some all of the same kind and some a mix, before handing them over for Clarke to wrap and set aside.

A particularly pungent smell hit Clarke, one she recognized, “What is this one?” 

“That is used for sleep.” Anya had barely glanced up, “It can aggravate night terrors.”

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows, “Is it used in soup very often then?”

Anya looked up from her task this time before offering a small huff, “Only if the one eating the soup is too stupid to sleep when they need it.”

Clarke grit her teeth, those damn grounder scouts at the Mountain had drugged her. “And is it common, among your people, to drug people without their knowledge?”

Anya shrugged, “It can be.”

“So then do I need to worry about what you give me?”

She rolled her eyes, “Clarke if my intention was to kill you, or even drag you back to Lexa I wouldn’t need any of these to do it. I could have slit your throat or tied you up at any point in the last few weeks. You weren’t even a challenge when you were well.”

“Hey! I won that fight.”

Anya looked unimpressed, “I was half-dead from being drained by the Mountain, and I hadn’t eaten more than a few mouthfuls since they took us. Don’t count that as any sort of win.”

“Why haven’t you taken me back yet?” Clarke changed the subject, her head had gotten caught on that comment, “You were eager to take me back last time.”

“Last time you were a foolish  _ skaigada _ that was on the opposite side of the war as I was.” Anya gathered the bundles and began hanging them from little uneven spots in the wall. “Now you are more.”

“More?”

Anya paused, letting her hands drop a little, before turning to face Clarke a bit more, “You have taken down the Mountain. You carry the weight of many souls. You are more.”

Clarke shivered, Anya’s words brushing over her skin like a frigid breeze that reaches through to her soul, “What if I don’t want to be more.”

Anya offered a small, almost sad smile. “Those who become more, rarely ever want to. It is why they are the ones to whom it is offered.”

“What is offered?” More of these damn cryptic comments.

Anya’s head lifted a bit, chin thrusting outward, “The chance to change the world. To save it.”

Clarke stared at her. She had changed the world, she knew that. So many people were dead, their lives cut short and the world would forever be changed because of that. But did it really save the world? That was ridiculous, how could so many deaths save the world.

“You are not ready yet,” Anya interrupted her train of thought, “But when you are, I will be here.”

“Be here for what?” Clarke could feel the anger stirring in her gut, she just wanted to be left alone.

“To help you bear and become.” Anya’s gaze was heavy now, the weight almost overshadowing the weight Clarke carried with her every day. 

“Become what? I don’t want to become anything.” Clarke’s voice was rising and sharpening.

“Then it will destroy you.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Get up.” 

Clarke flinched as something heavy landed on her face. She reached up and pulled the heavy fur off her face. “What the hell?”

“Put that on.” Anya was already moving around, shoving stuff into a bag, shaking out the fur she slept on. Just generally tidying up the space.

“Why am I putting this on?” Clarke’s eyes were barely open. When Anya didn’t answer she huffed and settled back into her fur, pulling the new fur into her body to cuddle up against it.

“Agh!” Clarke jerked up, groaning and wrapping her arm around her ribs in response to the pain. She didn’t even bother to wipe the water off her face.

Anya reached down and grabbed the fur she’d tossed onto Clarke’s face earlier and shook it off, droplets of water shaking off. She reached down and offered her hand, allowing Clarke to use it to pull herself upright slowly. Clarke let go as soon as she was mostly upright, still hunched over slightly. Anya bent back down and grabbed the still warm fur, shaking out before putting it in the pile in the corner. She wrapped the other fur, still in her hand around Clarke’s shoulders before grabbing the back.

“Let’s go.”

“What? Where are we going?” Clarke stood there stupidly.

“It’s time to move on.” Anya turned a circle, checking out the cave. “Wrap that around yourself, you  _ skai _ people are weak.”

Clarke followed Anya as she walked out of the cave, muttering under her breath. She stopped as soon as she stepped foot outside, what had been shades of brown, tan and some green just a few days ago was now completely white, practically glowing in the early morning sunlight. Clarke hurried past Anya, only her shoes crunching in the snow, to take in the sight. She stopped by a bush and reached her hand out, brushing across the frigid powder. 

“Keep doing that and your hand will freeze off.” Anya snarked, stalking past her. “We need to get going. It’s a two-day walk-” Anya glanced back at Clarke, eyeing the way her hand still drifted across the snow, “So I’m hoping to make it by next week.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and brushed her hand off on her pants. She pulled the fur draped across her shoulders on properly, slowly maneuvering her arms into the wide sleeves. “You could just take off. Leave me here.”

“No.”

Clarke huffed, irritated. She kept walking eyes focused on the forest surrounding her, it was so different than it had been. She tried to remember what it had looked like after the Mountain, but couldn’t recall a single detail of any waking moment. Only her dreams stood out as memorable. But before the mountain, the forest had been so thick with greenery that she couldn’t take more than a few steps without brushing into something. The sun had been hard to see, everything lit with a soft greenish hue as the sunlight had to filter through so many layers. Even the air had smelled like green and earth. Now everything was bare, sharp, and so bright that her eyes hurt, and the sun wasn’t even really out today, tucked behind clouds that drifted through the sky.

“What happened to fall? Is that still a thing?” Clarke had always dreamed about seeing the vivid changing colors of a forest in the fall. The reds, oranges, and yellows with bits of green still interspersed. 

“Fall lasted almost three months.”

“Wait, so we got here at the end of fall?” Clarke was disappointed, the trees didn’t change color anymore?

“You arrived mid-summer. Fall began about two weeks after the Mountain was reported to have fallen.”

Clarke jerked  to a stop. Three months? She had been gone for more than three months? 

“Winter will last as long as it chooses to, but it should begin to warm up again in four months,” Anya informed her, sounding like a teacher. “After winter we have summer. The warmth lasts for about 5 months before fall begins again.”

Clarke startled, “What about spring?”

“Spring? You want water?” Anya turned to look back at Clarke, still stationary.

“No, Spring. The season.”

“There is no season called spring. There is Winter, Summer and Fall. Winter is what we call the months of snow and ice. Summer is what we call the months of rain and heat. Fall is the time of the harvest and the best hunting.”

“That’s weird.”

“Did you have this spring in space?”

“We didn’t have seasons. Everything was regulated. Controlled.” Clarke shrugged and began walking again, working hard to ignore the length of time she had been gone and the guilt that was clawing it’s way up her throat.

“Then why do you have a name for seasons you don’t have?”

“We just went by what the old world called them.”

Anya slid a glance sideways to Clarke, “This is not the old world.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Clarke muttered.

They kept walking.

  
  
  
  


                                                                                            *****************************************

  
  


“Azgeda continues to push. They haven’t dared to actually set foot on  _ Trikru _ lands, but they can be found all over the mountain like rats. My scouts have even seen a few on the lands the  _ Skai _ people have claimed.” Indra stood stiff and straight, one hand resting on the pommel of her sword. 

“Have they found a way to enter the Mountain?” Titus took a step forward, almost eager.

“No.” Indra gave a sharp single shake of her head, “Not even the  _ Skai _ people have found a way into the Mountain, and they have tried many times with their tech.”

“Do you think they will manage it?” 

Titus didn’t specify who he was talking about, but Indra shook her head again, “Azgeda tried to pry the doors open and to damage them with their battle-axes, they haven’t tried since the first time when every axe they had broke and the door stood without a scratch.” Indra shifted on her feet, less certain this time. “The  _ Skai _ people..some are trying to get into the Mountain, and they are trying very hard. There’s one boy who has camped out for days at a time using a panel in the wall to attempt to gain access. There are two others that have been dragged up by the  _ Skai  _ leaders. The one girl, Raven? was very loud in her refusal to help. The other boy was very quiet, but he also refused to help.” Indra squinted a bit thinking about the scene she had watched a few times in the last few months. “I think the boy might actually know how to enter, but he is firm in his refusal.”

“Have they been punished for refusing to help?” Lexa spoke from her spot by the closed balcony doors for the first time since this meeting began.

“There were no threats of physical punishment that we heard, only denial of food or..I didn’t actually understand quite what they were attempting to take away from them, but it sounded like something that they were confident wouldn’t be withheld. Neither seemed to be in bad shape during future forced attempts to open the Mountain.”

Lexa nodded and turned back to the doors, watching the snow fall in thick heavy flakes. It was coming down so hard and so quickly it could almost be mistaken for rain if it were not for the silence that accompanied it. “Have there been any encounters between Azgeda and Skaikru?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Azgeda has been very careful to avoid being seen by Skaikru.”

“Has Azgeda avoided you?” Titus jumped back in.

“Azgeda really shouldn’t try to walk quietly in Trikru lands. They always forget to look up,” Indra smirked just a bit, “And they look ridiculous trying to avoid stepping on dry leaves and twigs.”

Titus gave a sharp nod, his only acknowledgment, before turning to face his  _ Heda _ , “What shall we do?”

Lexa glanced at him over her shoulder before turning back to her view, “We will do nothing.”

“Heda, we must do something!” Titus protested.

“Why?”

“Azgeda walks were they do not belong.” Titus’ outrage clear, “And Skaikru should not still exist let alone be wandering about.”

“The land around the Mountain is unclaimed. Azgeda has as much claim to it as Trikru.” Lexa remained calm.

“They can have it,” Indra spat, “That land is cursed.”

Lexa gave an acknowledging nod, “Azgeda cannot breach the doors. And if Skaikru has not managed to enter in the last four months then I doubt they will manage it now.”

“Their trips to the mountain have become fewer,” Indra confirmed, “And I doubt they have continued since the snows began.”

“This is not about their ability to enter the mountain! This is about Azgeda defiance.” Titus objected. “They cannot be permitted to come and go where they please without your permission.”

Lexa sighed (very quietly so Titus wouldn’t hear), “If Azgeda is choosing to remain south during the winter they will not be able to stay on the mountain for long. They will have to make themselves known shortly. If they are not remaining for the winter then they have already left and I will not be making an accusation against them that I cannot back up.” Lexa gave him a sharp glare, “I will not begin a war so casually.”

“That’s..That’s not what I meant.” Titus backtracked quickly.

“That may not be what you meant Titus, but it is exactly what would have happened.” Lexa straightened and walked to her table, waving a hand at Titus as she moved, “The nightbloods are expecting you for their lessons. Do not keep them waiting.”

Titus hesitated for only a short moment before he turned and walked out the door, his robes swishing angrily behind him. As soon as the doors closed the two remaining women relaxed, both moving to sit in chairs. 

“He doesn’t change,” Indra muttered, reaching forward for the pitcher of mulled wine and pouring a cup for both herself and the girl in front of her.

Lexa offered a hum of agreement before taking a sip, leaning her head back on her chair with eyes closed once she had. “Neither does his agenda. He insists we march on Skaikru and destroy them.”

“Why haven’t you?” 

“I..” Lexa sighed, eyes still closed. She lifted her head to look Indra straight on. “If I march on Skaikru we will be at war again.” She shook her head, “I have no doubts that we would win. We outnumber them 100 times over, and none of them have a head for war. But that does not mean we would not take heavy losses. Their guns, and whatever else they have, would see to that.”

Indra nodded, sipping again at her wine. “Would it be worth it?”

Lexa seemed to consider this, “The older members of Skaikru did not seem to be willing to change. Their behavior was very..” Lexa shook her head not sure how to describe it. “They were not willing to become like us, and they would become the Mountain Men if they had a choice.”

Indra nodded her agreement.

“The younger ones seemed willing. Octavia, Clarke. They led the way and I think if things had turned out differently others would have followed.”

“That is only two of the hundred.”

Lexa huffed, “Do you think that those two are not strong-headed enough to lead thousands?”

Indra offered a soft smile, “That is true. If only they were both of a mind to lead their people. This might not even be an issue.”

It was Lexa’s turn to nod.

“Octavia is not a leader, though. She is a warrior. One who disagrees with our choices.” Indra ignored the pang of disappointment that ran through her at the thought of her former second. “And Clarke is nowhere to be found.”

Lexa drained her cup and reached for the pitcher to refill it. They sat in silence, each mired in their own thoughts.

“They call her  _ Wanheda _ .” Indra broke the silence cautiously, she knew that Lexa would not have a favorable reaction to the title.

Lexa clenched her jaw so tightly that the crack as muscles popped could be heard across the room. “That name was supposed to die.”

“If she truly is, it will not die so long as she lives,” Indra stated calmly. “Do you think that she is?”

“Wanheda?” Lexa clarified. She fell silent, her guilt welling up to fill every inch of space in her body. “I pray to the Spirits she is not.”

“It would mean that the Flame is no longer left to rule alone.”

Lexa looked right at Indra, “I would rule alone for a thousand lifetimes than to make her into Wanheda. Not just for her..” Lexa paused because she knew that Indra could see the half-lie, “But to save our people from the turmoil that has always come with her presence.”

“Lexa,” Indra’s tone became scolding, “You and I both know that the turmoil will come no matter what. Wanheda only eases the way.” She reached over and placed her heavily calloused hand over Lexa’s, “Just as you also know that  _ Fleim _ and  _ Wan _ have always ruled together.”

“I know that. I have not forgotten our history.  _ Graun _ and  _ Wada _ created the earth and then slept, while  _ Fleim _ and  _ Wan  _ created body and soul, people to enjoy the earth. Care for it.” Lexa recited. “It is not easy.” She looked to Indra, her worry and fear filling her eyes. “I would not wish this on the girl that…” She trailed off.

Indra nodded, squeezing Lexa’s hand, “I know. I Know.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Anya background

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Clarke asked from her sprawled position on the ground. 

“We are moving on. The land around the cave could no longer support us.”

Clarke groaned - that had been Anya’s response for three days. “And are we moving on to a specific place?”

“Why does it matter?”

Clarke huffed and rolled over, resting her cheek on her crossed arms. She just stared as Anya moved around the small clearing they had stopped in for the night. She had already started a small fire and she was forcing a metal stick through the body of a small animal she had killed during their walk today. She rubbed dry herbs onto it before holding it over the flames. 

Clarke continued to stare, silently willing Anya to give her an answer. An answer she’d been practically begging for since they left. “Well, how much longer til we get there?”

Anya looked at Clarke considering her for a moment, “Why does that matter?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes, Anya was being difficult on purpose, knowing how much it would piss her off. “If it doesn’t matter, then why are we going? We’ve seen quite a few animals today. Why don’t we just stop here?”

“I thought you did not enjoy waking to frost on your face and ice in your hair?” Anya mocked. Clarke had grumbled until late morning about the frigid temperatures. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if they’d brought the furs from the cave, instead, she was forced to cuddle up next to  _ Anya _ all night so she didn’t die in her sleep.

“It’s not the cold. It’s your morning breath.” Clarke offered, deadpan.

Anya smirked but stayed silent, focused on turning over their dinner.

“We aren’t-” Clarke hesitated, it had been on her mind since they left, but she’d been, not afraid to ask..she just hadn’t asked, “We aren’t going to Polis, are we?”

“Why would you ask that?” Her eyes bored into Clarkes.

“You said that you used to spend winter’s in Polis.” Clarke left off who she spent the winter with.

“ _ Used to _ _ , _ ” Anya emphasized, “I was unwelcome in Polis last year. This year would be no different.”

Clarke arched an eyebrow, “Really? She seemed rather upset at your death. She might be relieved to know you aren’t actually dead.” She wasn’t actually sure that-  _ Heda  _ was still unaware of Anya’s continued existence, but something about the way Anya shifted every time she was brought up made Clarke suspicious.

“Have you finally decided that I’m real then?” Anya asked.

“She doesn’t know?” Clarke had wondered, but she still couldn’t quite believe that Anya hadn’t told the other girl, “She-Why wouldn’t you tell her?”

Anya kept her eyes focused on dinner, and sighed, “We were not..on good terms before you landed.”

“That’s- That’s bullshit.” Clarke scrambled into a seated position, she still couldn’t believe it. “You’re really going to just let her go around thinking you’re dead?”

“I have not been a part of Heda’s life for a while now. My existence doesn’t matter to her.” 

Clarke just stared.

“Tomorrow should be our last day of walking. Then we will arrive.”

“No. You’re not going to change the subject. She thinks you’re dead! First Costia, then you, then Gustus. You can’t just leave her thinking almost her entire family is dead. She isn’t that heartless.” 

“She told you about Costia?” It was Anya’s turn to stare.

“That doesn’t matter. She thinks her entire family is dead. And you’re ok with that?”

“There are many things that you don’t understand.”

“Then make me. Make me understand.”

“Did she tell you how Costia died?” Anya waited for the nod, “Costia was missing for months before her head was delivered to Lexa. We had searched for her, of course, but we couldn’t find her anywhere. Not even a whisper. The first few weeks, we were pretty sure of where she was at, but then - when we couldn’t find anything..” Anya swallowed hard. “We, the rest of us, stopped looking so hard. We figured she had to be dead.” Anya looked down at her hands, seeming not to see the spit in them but something else. “She may have been dead, but if she was they stored her in the ice for however long before they delivered her head to Lexa.” Anya looked back up and shook her head, “I pushed Lexa to let it go. I, more than any of the others, pushed at her to accept Costia’s death. Indra, Gustus, they’ve both had houmon’s, partners,” Anya clarified at Clarke’s confused look, “They didn’t say much, one way or the other, just listened to her. Held her when she needed it.”

“After a month had passed, I told her that Costia was dead and that neither of them would be served by Lexa continuing to wait and hope for her return.” Anya pulled back the spit and propped it up on some rocks, keeping the meat out of the dirt. “Lexa stopped coming to me when she was thinking about Costia. She kept that for Gustus and Indra. And that was fine.” Anya lifted a shoulder, “I truly believed I was right.” Anya looked down, staring at the ground in front of her. “That night, when Lexa found the box beside her bed...Lexa has always been..contained..I had never seen her like that before. She just…”Anya spread her hands, unable to find the words. “She shut down. For ten days she didn’t leave her quarters. Didn’t attend to her duties. She didn’t eat, she barely slept, and she only drank what we forced down her throat. She had these attacks of hysteria, where she wouldn’t be able to breathe. And nightmares,” Anya looked directly at Clarke this time, “As vivid as yours.”

Anya fell silent and Clarke let her, this was already more than she had ever thought to know about the other girl. She felt a bit uncomfortable at knowing this much, it felt like an invasion of privacy, but strangely it also..helped. 

“Even after she returned to her duties she still had them.” Anya blinked rapidly and swallowed again. “A month or so later..I brought a report, and Lexa- she had been drinking. We had a fight that night, and she told me she blamed me. That maybe if I hadn’t pushed so hard for her to let go of Costia, that she might have been able to get to her in time. To save her. Or at least to be able to put her to rest, instead of allowing her trapped soul to wander.”

“Is that when..”

“She didn’t trust me after that. Well, she hadn’t trusted me for months.” A single tear slid down Anya’s cheek. “She could barely look at me before that fight, And after she didn’t look at me, didn’t talk to me. Nothing.”

“After a few months, I left; I figured maybe some distance would help. Give her time to grieve without having me in her space. But when the snow melted I was given new orders. Instead of her advisor and General of Polis, I was given a unit of Trikru.”

“Shit, that’s a harsh demotion.” Clarke blurted out before thinking.

Anya huffed an almost laugh, “It was supposed to be a ‘special unit to scout the Mountain with the intent to bring it down’.” Anya shrugged, “I hoped it would be a short-term thing. Lexa just needing more time, but it lasted 6 seasons instead. Tristan being sent to replace me after the bridge made it pretty clear that she hadn’t changed her mind.”

“I’m sorry if we made things worse for you.” Clarke began, “But continuing to let her think you’re dead is chicken shit.”

Anya’s head whipped up, eyes glaring at Clarke, “I ju-

“NO. You didn’t see her. I could see her grief when I told her you were dead, even without knowing her.” Clarke refused to be interrupted, “But now that I know her better, looking back - I can see she wasn’t just upset, she was devastated.”

“And it didn’t get any better when she had to watch Gustus go through the cuts and then shove her blade into his chest. Things may not be good between you. But thinking someone you love is dead, even if they’ve betrayed you or hurt you in unimaginable ways, is the worst thing in the world. If -” Clarke caught her breath in a half-gasp, “My mom got my dad killed. But being told she was dead when I was in the mountain before I realized that things were off; for that moment everything was worse.”

“I hate what my mom did. I hate that she didn’t think it through, I hate that she didn’t trust him..I hate that she was more than a little bit right.” Clarke swiped at her cheeks feeling the wetness on them, “But even though I didn’t want to see her, still don’t, thinking she is dead would be the worst thing that could happen.” 

Clarke and Anya just stared at each other across the fire, both immersed in their own thoughts. It was only when the fire began to die down that they finally broke the connection and focused on anything else. Clarke fed the fire while Anya cut the meat off the bones. It was a little charred on one side, but the edge of the blade knocked most of that off. 

They didn’t say anymore as they ate their dinner, or even after as they prepared to sleep. Clarke thought the silence might have bothered her any other night but her head was so full with what Anya had shared, and reviewing her interactions with Lexa with this new filter that her mind didn’t bother to wander to her own burdens. They simply lay next to each other, sharing warmth, before they drifted off to sleep.

  
  
  


*******************************

  
  


“So this is where you come during the winter when there’s snow...even though there’s no snow?” Clarke looked between Anya and the small wooden structure in front of them. 

“There may not be snow right now, or even right here, but the temperatures can be bitterly cold.” Anya stomped up onto the porch, dropping her pack and pulling off her heavy fur coat. “I need to get firewood from the back, stay here.”

She was already gone around the side before Clarke could even open her mouth. Clarke shrugged and stepped up onto the porch, pulling her own coat off. It was cold without it, but she was sweaty from the walk and it was uncomfortable and smelly. Maybe she’d be able to air dry a bit.

“ _ Chon yu bilaik _ ?” Clarke’s head shot up, startled. She opened her mouth but didn’t really know what to say, so she kind of just let it flap open and shut like a fish out of water.

“ASH?!” Anya’s voice startled them both, causing a visible jump, as Anya dropped her armful of firewood and charged at the other person.

Ash paused for just a moment before running full-tilt at Anya, causing an audible thud to be heard as they impacted with each other. They hugged tightly for a long moment before pulling away, both jabbering away in Trig like excited toddlers asked about their favorite thing.

Clarke stood and watched for a moment before deciding that this was going to take a while. She glanced around and found a sturdy, but slightly uncomfortable, wooden chair and perched herself on it, watching the two interact. She was proven right when..Ash took off running, Anya chasing after. It didn’t take Anya long to catch up to Ash, starting a wrestling match on the frigid ground. Finally, they seemed to remember they had an audience and hauled themselves up, brushing off dead leaves and twigs. 

Anya went back to collect the wood she dropped while Ash tromped onto the porch. Clarke finally got a good look at Ash, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Anya. Same cheekbones and height. Hair was the same, long and dirty blonde. Ash’s jaw was squarer and shoulders were broader. Before Clarke could say anything Anya thudded onto the porch, giving Clarke a glare that had her closing her mouth.

Ash grunted as Anya shoved the wood into their arms, “Get a fire started, its cold.”

Anya shoved Ash towards the door, ignoring the muttering in Trig that followed as she reached over and hauled Clarke closer, yanking her off the porch and a few steps further away.

“Do not stare, do not ask questions, do not make an ass of yourself or you will sleep outside.” Anya’s tone was more menacing than anything Clarke had ever heard from her, including their interactions when Tris was dying.

“Wha-”

“I said no questions.”

Clarke gave Anya an incredulous look, “If I can’t ask questions, how- exactly- am I supposed to know what to do or not do?”

Anya’s nostrils flared.

Taking it as permission, Clarke continued, “Is Ash a guy or a girl?” She didn’t see the point in dancing around it.

“A girl. She is a girl. It doesn’t matter what her body looks like, or what anyone else thinks she is a girl.” Anya looked like she was gearing up for a rant, but she fizzled when Clarke just nodded.

“Ok.”

“That’s it?” It was Anya’s turn to give her a look.

“There were a couple of people on the Ark like Ash. Lot’s more before the bombs went off. It’s not a big deal so long as I know. Ash uses she and her?”

Anya just nodded.

“Cool. Anything else?”

She shook her head and blinked, letting Clarke walk past her and into the house. She rubbed the back of her head and glanced up to the sky. It had been a long week and while Ash being here was good, it might also make things more complicated. Anya sighed, nothing to do about it now, she turned and walked into the house.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW - Panic Attack

 

Clarke woke to quiet mutters between Anya and Ash as they moved around the small cabin. She scrunched her eyes closed even tighter, not wanting to get up quite yet. It had only been 6 days of walking, but it had been exhausting on her damaged body, and even though they’d fallen asleep shortly after they stopped walking every night, it wasn’t as warm or as safe feeling as Anya’s cabin.

Clarke let her eyes flutter open when she heard water splashing into a pot, they were obviously up for the day and not going anywhere. She let the room come into view, it was a simple place; Bed big enough for Anya and Ash to share tucked into a corner behind a screen, A wall of shelves filled with random bits, A smooth wooden table and chairs set right in front of the fire, and a few sacks and barrels that had been tucked into the corned Clarke was currently occupying. She had shoved them forward and laid the furs she’d been given behind them. It wasn’t a lot, but it did give a sense of privacy, even if that vanished as soon as she sat up.

She sighed, her body ached today. Worse than it had in a few days. Anya had been handing her some bitter herbs to chew every night before they slept, but last night Clarke had shaken her head and walked away. She knew that she couldn’t use the herbs as a crutch for too much longer, and at least her ribs no longer screamed anytime she needed to start breathing a little more heavily.

A quick glance between the barrels in front of her showed Anya sitting in a chair, leaning back like some of the boys used to do in class. Ash was standing at a counter, chopping something with speed and skill while talking to Anya. They both seemed relaxed like they were enjoying each others company. They hadn’t talked much last night, Clarke still wasn’t sure what they were to each other, she was guessing family member because of their resemblance to each other. 

She laid there and continued to watch them, their interactions with each other were interesting. She’d never seen Anya sooo...laid back. It made Clarke’s chest ache to see how happy she was, she wasn’t even quite sure why. She knew she didn’t deserve to be happy - no murderer did, but some part of her refused to accept that. 

“If you don’t get up, I’m going to give you a bath!” Anya called over, returning to her conversation with Ash without waiting for an answer. 

The comment startled Clarke, they had been talking in Trig all morning and the sudden English had been jarring. Clarke grunted and heaved herself up, pushing her tangle of hair back out of her face. Her fingers got caught in it and she had to work them out or risk tearing out her scalp. She stood, grabbing the furs she slept. “Where should I put these?”

“They’ll need to be washed, I wasn’t expecting company,” Ash shot Anya a look, “They should have been cleaned before you used them last night, but musty furs are better than a bare floor.”

Clarke was surprised at how good her English was, her accent was almost better than Anya’s, but she just hauled the furs to the table not commenting on it.

Clarke stood, looking between the two women, still not sure what to do with them until Ash reached out with a leg, not even bothering to glance behind her, and shoved at Anya’s chair, sending Anya’s balance off enough that she crashed back to the ground.

“Fine.” Anya huffed, “Slave driver.” The last was muttered under her breath as she took the furs from Clarke and dropped them on the bed. She bundled all of them together and took the massive bunch out the door, dropping them with a thud on the porch. “I’ll get the water going.” She raised her voice a bit to be heard inside. 

Clarke caught a glimpse of her hauling a massive black pot off the porch and around to the side before the door swung closed behind her. She glanced over at Ash, but didn’t really know what to say. They hadn’t even been introduced last night before they were eating dried meat and going to bed. And she still didn’t want to be around people. Anya was manageable now, but even though Ash was focused on her cooking and was silent, Clarke could feel the speed of her breathing increase. She tried not to, but all she could think of was what questions might be asked, how she would have to respond and live with the horror and the hate on Ash’s face as she realized that there was a murderer, someone who had killed hundreds sitting at her table. 

Clarke shook her head, trying to clear it, the cabin was spinning around her now and her eyes were blurring. Clarke gasped trying to get air, but her heart was pounding so hard and fast that her lungs couldn’t catch the air.

“ _ Chilla, beja.”  _ Clarke fought against whatever was holding her down, maybe if it let go she’d be able to breathe, but whatever was holding her tightened down. Clarke tried to strike out with hands and feet, but it was difficult and the spinning and pounding were so bad her vision was going black around the edges.

“ _ Won, tu, thri, fou, fai, sis, sen, eit, nain, ten..”  _ Her vision was reduced mostly black, with a few spots of light when the rhythmic sound registered. The sounds kept repeating, getting clearer and clearer until other things began to register. Arms wrapped around her upper body, legs hooked over her own. The shifting of a body behind her, hands on her cheeks, another voice..that one was still foggy.

“Come on Clarke, breath.” Anya’s voice finally cut through, and Clarke started to blink trying to clear her vision. “Come on, come back.” The other voice stopped their chant, beginning a slow side to side rock as Clarke finally sucked in a deep breath. Her lungs finally expanding as much as they could. That first breath caused a coughing attack, her ribs screaming in protest. The arms loosened around her chest, letting her lean forward to cough and suck in more air.

The coughing slowly stopped, letting her feel the warmth at her back and the hand stroking her head, “Can you hear me, Clarke?”

She nodded, still focusing on breathing. She sagged back, her body was so damn heavy now. She let her eyes close and just sat, letting her body come back down. 

“You good?” Clarke felt a nod from behind her. Anya stood and began shifting around, vanishing from Clarke’s still limited range of vision. She had no idea how much time passed before Anya was in front of her again, the rocking stopped. “Sip.” Liquid hit her lips and she let it slip past, grateful that it stopped before it got to be too much.

“I’m..” Clarke’s voice was shaky and it was more of a croak than anything else, “I’m ok.”

Anya just looked at her, seeming to consider. She gave a sharp nod, eyes darting past Clarke. She stood and set the cup down, reaching back to help Clarke to her feet. Anya ended up supporting more of Clarke’s weight than Clarke did, her body still too shaky to really feel connected. Anya helped Clarke over to a chair at the table, slowly lowering her into it before setting the cup back in front of her. “Finish this.” Her tone was more gentle than it usually was.

Clarke focused on bringing the cup to her mouth without spilling anything. It helped bring her down more, letting her ignore the way the two women moved in silence only exchanging pointed looks.  Clarke's awareness faded in and out. Still coming out of the haze.

“Can you eat?” Clarke startled, head shooting up to meet Anya’s questioning gaze. She had a bowl in her hand.

“I-I don’t-” Clarke couldn’t seem to twist her lips around words, not that she knew what to say in the first place.

“You’ll try.” The bowl thumped down on the table followed by others. Ash placed a cutting board with a loaf of bread on it and scattered spoons beside the full bowls. The other two sat and began eating, pausing only so Ash could tear off hunks of bread and pass them around.

Clarke slowly reached for the spoon and put a little on it, slowly bringing it to her mouth. She was grateful that it was thick, whatever it was, because her hands were so shaky. The first mouthful was...amazing. It was sort of sweet, and thick, and just a little bit chewy. A small sound escaped from the back of her throat as she swallowed. So good.

“I see Anya’s cooking hasn’t improved any.” Ash chuckled a bit as Clarke did her best to attack her breakfast.

“ _ Shof op yu skrish,” _ Anya shoved at Ash, “I cook just fine as long as I have access to all the stuff you do.” She gestured behind her to the wall full of random jars and sacks. “But carrying my weight in grain isn’t exactly a priority just so I can have oats for breakfast.”

“Why? Sounds like good training to me.” Ash teased.

“This is why I’m the  _ gona _ and you’re not.”

“Here I thought it was because you barged back home, demanded I take an apprenticeship, arranged it, then vanished again.”

“Are you saying you’d rather give up your cushy life as a tailor to be a warrior?” Anya asked, eyebrow arching, “Speaking of, that one needs new clothes. And I need you to see if you can fix my pants that she’s wearing.”

Ash’s eyes started roaming over Clarke’s body, well what was visible, “What do you need?”

Clarke looked up at Ash before glancing over to Anya and offering a shrug. She focused back on her..oats? This breakfast was not to be ignored for something as boring as clothes.

“She has nothing.” Anya rolled her eyes, grabbing her empty bowl and Clarke’s almost empty bowl. She ignored the sound of protest that Clarke gave, ladling more into the bowl and sliding it back down the table. Ash had to reach over and grab it to stop it from sliding past Clarke and onto the floor, Clarke was too slow and shaky to stop it herself. Anya plopped back down and started eating her second bowl. Ash just looked at her.

“I hope you’re planning to do some training while you’re here. More than just cleaning the furs.” She poked at Anya, “You’re gonna get fat if you don’t.”

“No, I’m not.” Anya scoffed.

Ash looked pointedly down at the quickly emptying bowl, “You sure about that?”

Anya picked up the heel of the bread and chucked it at Ash, thunking her in the head, “As sure as I am about my aim.”

Ash rubbed at her forehead, “You do that again and you’ll find all of your clothes to be improved with new spots for your massive head.”

“From what Nomon said, you had the bigger head.”

“No, Nomon said that Adam had the biggest head.”

“You were twins! You looked exactly the same!” This had the tone of an old and repeated argument.

“That doesn’t mean our heads were the same size.”

“Yes it does, and he came first. She was too tired to notice.”

“Wait, so you two are siblings?” Clarke interrupted, this back and forth was aggravating the headache that was starting to build.

Both looked at her and grumbled their assent. Clarke nodded, aware that their grumbling was a sibling thing, not because they were actually unhappy about being related to each other.

“Anya here, is the  _ bigasis-” _

_ “ _ Big sister,” Anya translated

“And likes to think that makes her smart,” Ash smirked at Anya.

“At least I can think.” Anya sniped back. She shoved herself up, taking her bowl and cleaning it out in a small tub on a side table. “You done?” She took Clarke’s bowl when she didn’t get an immediate ‘No’ and began cleaning that one as well.

“Aren’t you going to offer to clean my bowl too?” 

“No, you’re the one who decided to move into my home without saying anything. You can clean your own dishes.” Anya flicked the water off her fingers and wiped them on her pants. “I’m going to work on the furs and bedding, let me know if you need anything.” She gave a pointed look to Ash, flicking her gaze to Clarke who didn’t notice.

Ash nodded and stood, taking care of her own dishes, “I’ll get measurements for this one.” Anya nodded in acknowledgment and left, letting the door slam a bit behind her.

“Let’s get you measured.” Ash pulled a box off a shelf, setting it down on the table. It opened to reveal a measuring tape, rough thread, delicate white needles and sheaves of paper. Ash pulled out a small paper-wrapped pencil and used it to make a few quick marks on one of the papers. “We don’t have all day.” 

Clarke just shifted and shrugged, unsure of what she was supposed to do.

“Take off the clothes.” Ash sounded irritated. “I can’t measure you properly if there’s other material in the way.”

“Oh.” Clarke shifted uncomfortably, slowly starting to remove the clothes. They were still in decent shape, Anya had checked over them and patched a few holes every time Clarke bathed. She set them aside on the table, standing awkwardly in her old Ark underwear and bra. Neither was in good shape, discolored, shapeless and falling apart at the seams. A blush flamed across her face and chest as Ash gestured to the undergarments, indicating they should be removed as well. She yanked them off and let them fall, silent until Ash lifted them with the edge of her pencil and tossed them on the fire.

“Oh!” Clarke protested, but it was too late, they were completely gone.

“They were probably doing more harm than good, and I can have new ones for you by tonight.” Clarke looked at her in surprise. She could have new underwear tonight? That sounded...amazing.

Ash lifted her arms and toed her legs into the position she wanted, giving a nod as soon as Clarke was where she wanted her. Clarke stood and tried desperately to ignore Ash, crouched at her feet as she began to take measurements, pausing to write each number on the sheaf of paper, now sporting a rough drawn figure.

It was done quickly, for that Clarke was grateful, and for the most part it wasn’t too uncomfortable. There were a few measurements, inner foot up to her inner thigh as high as it could go, around her chest, under her breasts; that were ragingly uncomfortable. Ash made it easier though, no comments or comparisons. Just quick measurements and the soft scratch of the pencil taking note.

“Would you like to clean up?” Ash asked Clarke, setting her things aside.

Clarke gave a quick nod and took the soap, basin, and cloth offered. She began to wipe herself down doing her best not to think of her audience. She’d already had one panic attack today, no need to give herself another. Especially since, going by Anya and then Ash’s behavior, nudity was nothing to blink about. It was understandable, she’d been in the war camp and had gotten more than one eyeful when she’d passed a warrior changing or emptying their bladder or bowels. Clarke wrinkled her nose at the last one.

“Would you like help with your hair?” Clarke looked up and saw that Ash held another basin and this time a pitcher. There were also a few bottles sitting on the table where Ash’s things had been. Clarke shivered in the cool air but nodded. Even if it meant that she had to stand there naked as the day she was born, she wanted her hair clean.

Ash pulled a large cloth off the back of the chair and handed it to her, “Don’t tell Anya, she gets nasty when other people use her bath sheet.”

Clarke nodded and wrapped it around herself, relaxing a bit at being covered and moved to the chair Ash motioned to in front of the fire. She leaned her head back and practically melted. This water had been warmed and its heat felt good, but that was nothing compared to the fingers that slid in the strands of her hair. 

Ash started with scrubbing her scalp, it was almost rough, but it still felt so good that Clarke felt like a puddle. Her heart calming for the first time since her attack, her shoulders dropping in relief. She let herself fade out of awareness, almost dozing as Ash continued alternating between rubbing the contents of the bottles through her hair and pouring the warmed water over the locks. Ash even began humming at some point.

Clarke blinked a few times and sat up straighter when Ash nudged her, her hair was wrapped tightly in a smaller bit of fabric. She watched as Ash put all but one of the bottles up on the shelf. she grimaced as she caught sight of the basin Ash had used, the water was black and a little thick. Ew.

“Sit on the floor,” Ash nudged in behind her, a comb in her hand now. She poured a sweet-smelling fluid from the last bottle and warmed it in between her hands, running it through Clarke’s wet hair. Once that was done she began to comb through Clarke’s hair.

Clarke bit her lip at the first stroke, trying not to cry. She couldn’t count the number of nights she’d sat like this - on the floor, comb running through her wet hair, humming filling the air around her - as her dad sat behind her. Abby had rarely been around, she was frequently at work due to Dr’s hours. Jake had been the one with a reliable schedule, so he’d always been the one to get her from after-school care, have dinner with her, make she’d bathed and then he’d help her with her hair. 

Even when she got older and could take care of herself, when she had a bad day she’d grab the comb off the counter and hold it out to her dad. A silent question he never failed to answer with a yes. He would run the comb through her hair, letting it soothe her until she was ready to talk. There were even a few times when Jake had struggled with his day, that he offered to brush her hair. Clarke was glad every time he did, it made her feel less like a child to know that her dad enjoyed this, found peace in this, as much as she did.

Clarke blinked a few times, clearing the extra fluid from her eyes, only a little had fallen on her cheeks. The rhythm had changed and the comb was now on the table. It took a moment for Clarke to realize what was happening, but she smiled a bit when she did. Ash was braiding her hair.

“Thank you,” Clarke said softly.

“ _ Ai Nomon _ used to do this for me when I had a bad day.” Ash’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “I didn’t have hysterics, like earlier,” She paused, “There would be days where I couldn’t stand my body.” Clarke offered a small nod, acknowledging the unspoken question, “On those days, she would sit behind me and comb and braid my hair. Even long after I knew how to do the braids myself.”

Clarke reached back letting her fingertips drift gently over the braids on one part of her head, “Do the braids mean anything?”

Ash hummed in the affirmative, “These are the braids of a  _ seken _ , an apprentice.” She reached down and grabbed Clarke’s hand pulling it back to follow the two small tight braids on each side of her head, with one thick one gathering the rest of her hair in the back. “When you finish your training there are usually fewer braids, more of your hair is allowed to be free. Like mine and Anya’s. There are other braids for specific leaders. We can identify the leader of any Clan and Heda by their braids.” Ash stood, putting the last of things away.

Clarke was still feeling the braid in her hair, it was odd. It had been a long time- or it felt like it had - since she had her hair actually clean, brushed, and styled. “I’m not a  _ seken _ though.” Maybe it wasn’t appropriate to wear these without being one.

“Aren’t you?” Ash turned to look at her.

Clarke just offered a half shrug and a shake of her head. She wasn’t Anya’s  _ seken _ ..right? Anya was just keeping her alive out of…..something. Pity? No, Anya didn’t strike her as the type to put that much effort into something because of pity. Debt was a real possibility though. Maybe she felt like she owed her for getting her out of the mountain. Though Clarke felt that Anya had done more than enough to pay her back for that, if it had even been needed in the first place.

Ash came back from dumping the basin out, wiping it out and placing it back in its spot, too. “Anya is almost done cleaning the furs. She will need our help to brush them out.”

“Furs need to be brushed?” Clarke stood and let the bath sheet drop, pulling on the clothes she’d left there with only a small grimace for the lack of underwear. 

“It helps them dry faster, and if they aren’t brushed the strands become snarled and knotted. It gets uncomfortable to sleep on and can ruin a good fur after a while.” Ash waited until she was dressed, ushering her out into the frigid air once she’d pulled on her boots. 

Clarke shivered and crossed her arms over her chest, very aware of her lack of bra. She hurried over to where Anya was pulling heavy dripping furs out of a massive pot, the fire sputtered every time the water dripped and splashed out, but it was still a large fire and the warmth was welcome.

Anya gave an approving nod to Clarke when she finally noticed her and took in her appearance. It was odd, she’d seen Indra give the same nod to Octavia, and it gave her the oddest sense of pride. Like she’d earned approval she’d been seeking. 

Ash grabbed her arm, pulling Clarke from her thoughts, and guided her around the fire to where the furs were hung on a bowing line. It didn’t look like it should be strong enough to hold the obvious weight, but it did, giving them easy access. Ash handed Clarke a brush and showed her how to brush out the fur, following the natural direction the hair would have grown if the animal were still living.

“Once this is done, we’ll let the furs dry. We’ll leave the fire going so that it will get done faster. By tonight we should be able to bring the furs in.” Ash instructed.

“And they’ll be done then?”

“Not quite. We’ll use them to sleep tonight since we don’t have any more furs, then tomorrow we’ll comb out the fur again, and we’ll oil the skin side.” Ash flipped the fur up showing the leathery underside, “If the skin isn’t oiled then it contracts too much and the hair falls out and it will tear. By oiling it the fur stays soft.”

“It’ll also keep water from soaking through too much,” Anya add this part in with a grunt as she flipped another fur onto the line. “That’s the last. Do we need the water for anything more?”

“Do you wash the bedding?”

“ _ Sha, Namon,” _ Anya rolled her eyes, “You know this  _ is _ my house.”

Ash shrugged, “I use it more than you do,”

“I’m aware.”

“What is the bedding?” Clarke asked, eyes following when Anya pointed to another line, this one hung with large pieces of off-white fabric.

“Bedding covers the mattress and pillows. Make them last longer.” 

Clarke nodded and turned back to her task. It was boring, but maybe that was a good thing.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya backstory (Well, a little.)

Clarke leaned against the doorframe and sighed. It had been a long few days, full of chores mostly, and she just didn’t know what to do anymore. Part of her wanted to leave; wanted to walk out into the trees and never look back. Too bad Anya had caught her looking one afternoon and made it clear she’d haul her back. With broken ankles, if needed. 

And that was the weird thing, Anya was determined that she stick around. It didn’t matter how many panic attacks she’d had this week, or that she’d given Ash a nasty black eye during a nightmare, or even that she had to be walked through every step of basic chores (she still couldn’t light a fire cold, but she managed if there were still embers), Anya insisted she learn and she walked away every time Clarke tried to bring up leaving.

She moved to one of the chairs, leaving the door open, and pulled out one of the papers Ash had given her. She didn’t know how Ash knew, but they were there the morning after the worst nightmare. The swollen eye and splotches of color had made Clarke feel even more guilty about accepting the gift, but she was finding that Ash could be as stubborn as Anya when she wanted to be. She had been drawing her nightmares, but today that just felt like too much. She glanced up and out the window, it was an odd thing to draw, one woman sharpening a blade while another sewed, their feet kicked up on the stones surrounding the fire, but maybe it would be enough of a change.

  
  


_ “Are you ever going to tell me about her?” _ Ash asked, never lifting her eyes from her sewing. Clarke had a full outfit, but she needed at least one full change of clothes and a few spares of other things. It was good though, to have something to occupy her hands.

_ “It was never my intention for you two to meet,” _ Anya kept running the stone over her blade.

_ “Did you finally learn how to sew? Aw, my little Anya all grown up,” _ Ash teased, and waited a minute before continuing.  _ “You need to tell me about her.” _

Anya rolled her eyes at the teasing, “ _ The mountain has fallen.” _

_ “Yes, I heard. It was...a relief. Was it a difficult fight?” _

_ “I don’t really know.” _

_ “You weren’t there?” _

_ “I..” _ Anya sighed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a glass bottle and unstoppering it. She took a long pull and offered it to Ash. When Ash shook her head she pushed. She put the stopper back, making a mental note to refill the almost empty container before continuing. “ _ I was taken by the mountain, locked inside with the Mountain men.” _ She ignored the sharp intake of breath and the hand on her arm, “ _ I don’t know how long I was there, but then  _ **_she_ ** _ was. Clarke risked herself to get me out of there. I didn’t think it was possible, but she managed it.” _

_ “You know how things have been between Heda and I..so when I was able to, I took Clarke prisoner.” _ She didn’t respond to the hushed, “Anya!”.  _ “I figured that if I returned to our people, even after being the only person to escape the Mountain, that I would be killed. Accused of lying at best, accused of running away from war or being a traitor at worst.” _

_ “She convinced me that instead of fighting each other, we should be fighting the Mountain men and that if we worked together, we could destroy them. So instead of taking her to TonDC, I took her to her people. They could see us, didn’t know who it was, so they shot us. Hit me in the back.” _

“ _ They were from the skai? That was true?” _ Ash asked, “ _ And don’t think you aren’t going to pay for not telling me you were badly hurt.” _

Anya rolled her eyes again, “ _ They thought I was dead. Her people took her back behind their walls and left me there. I knew of a cave a short distance away. I kept it stocked when I was in the area just in case. I dragged myself there, used the supplies to let myself heal.” _ Anya shook her head.  _ “I should have died.” _

Ash cocked her head, searching her sister’s face,  _ “What is it?” _

_ “I should be dead. I can only think that I was saved for a reason.” _ Anya took a deep breath and looked at her sister,  _ “I think Wanheda kept me alive.” _

Ash jerked, her whole body stuttering in surprise,  _ “Why?” _

_ “So that I could protect and prepare her vessel.” _

Ash glanced over her shoulder, Clarke was visible through the open doorway, looking more relaxed than she had since she arrived.  _ “How can that girl possibly be a vessel?” _

Anya shook her head, “ _ The same way that girl was solely responsible for the fall of the Mountain.” _

Ash began to turn, as though she needed a chance to fully and closely inspect the girl she had been sharing a roof with, but Anya grabbed her arm preventing her from twisting,  _ “She brought down the Mountain by herself?” _

_ “That is my belief. And the belief of the scouts who were on the Mountain afterward. Heda made a deal to free our people from the Mountain, so long as all of our people left the Mountain and never returned. Clarke walked into the Mountain after she was left by Heda’s army and returned later with all of her people. The scouts said they later helped her to burn the bodies held within.” _

_ “Is that truly enough to become the vessel of Wanheda?” _

Anya gave a considering head tilt,  _ “I do not know if it was bringing down the Mountain, or being involved in part of TonDC being destroyed, or the burning of 300 of my warriors, or if it was the village they burned to the ground. Or maybe it is all of that and the fact that she was training to be a healer. Has some skill at it as well.” _

_ “She- She did all of that?” _

_ “In less than a season.” _

They sat in silence for a while, focused on their tasks. 

_ “You haven’t told her yet.” _

Anya glanced over, it obviously wasn’t a question, and sure enough, Ash had her scolding face on.  _ “No.” _

_ “Why not?” _

_ “I found her over a month ago almost dead. She was in worse shape than I was after her people left me behind.” _ Anya grimaced,  _ “There were several times I thought she would be better off if I just slit her throat. Ended her misery.” _

_ “But you didn’t, and now she is here. And recovering.” _ Ash gave a pointed look.  _ “She might recover faster if she knew.” _

_ “Ah yes, let me go tell the girl that is half-mad because of what she has done that she isn’t having crazy nightmares, but visiting the spirit-realm in her sleep, drawn there by Wanheda, but her own guilt has trapped the souls of the dead and Wanheda cannot reach her through them. Or will not.” _

_ “Then I should tell her that after she has let go of guilt, and as a result freed those trapped souls, she will then be able to become a vessel of one of the four Gods, able to utilize her skill and knowledge to help the people in this world.  _ **_But_ ** _ the people of this world may or may not like it because Wanheda isn’t the favorite.” _

_ “Then I should tell her that it’s my job to help her through all of this in the physical realm, and it’ll involve training that would make grown warriors cry. But on the upside, it also means I’ve accidentally become Wankepa like Eton insisted I’d be, and she’s going to be stuck with me until one of us dies. Yeah, I’ll get right to that.” _

_ “Well, when you put it like that...” _ Ash blew out a long breath.

They continued sitting, quietly until Ash began to giggle, just a little.

_ “What is the matter with you?” _

_ “You remember the first few times you returned home after Eton took you as his second? Remember how you’d stomp around the house, fussing about all the ‘boring lessons on stupid Wanheda’ and how  ‘if he’d just teach me how to fight I’ll be able to defeat Wanheda, and then I won’t need to hold their fucking hand?’”  _ Ash giggled around all the voice she used to imitate Anya.

_ “I remember chopping wood for hours after mother heard me cuss.” _ Anya didn’t pout. Nope, definitely not.  _ “What has that got to do with anything?” _

_ “He was right!” _ Ash giggled a bit more,  _ “He only ever took you as a second because he was so sure you were going to be Wanheda’s teacher and you always complained about it, and he was right!” _

Anya grumbled,  _ “Learning about Wanheda was the most boring thing ever. I would rather be stuck on guard duty for a decade than have to listen to his endless lessons.” _ Anya sighed and gave a very slight smile,  _ “But yes, he was right...Shit.” _

_ “I’m glad though, _ ” Ash had stopped laughing, taking a deep breath to calm herself.  _ “None of us would be where we are if he hadn’t taken you on.” _

_ “Yes, we would. Mother and Father taught us all how to work hard, and we’re all stubborn enough, we’d have made it happen. I would have eventually found someone to take me on as a second. You still would have become a tailor…” _ Anya trailed off.

_ “You wouldn’t have been chosen to train Heda, I wouldn’t have trained under a tailor in Polis. Addex and Aeris would have died too.”  _ Ash stopped, thinking about other siblings who didn’t survive. Anya reached over and wrapped an arm around her offering comfort, and just nodded.

They both knew that everything had changed for the better the day Eton had come through the trees, weaving through the garden trails, then sidestepping the laundry flapping in the wind. He had stopped just shy of the front door, their home too poor to afford a porch, and stood waiting until everyone had gathered around. His pronouncement that he was there to take Anya, still 2 years shy of 11, the normal age of a second, and train her as his second. Everyone had been silent for a while. Anya in hope; and terror that her parents would say no. 

Anya had realized later that her parents were probably silent in confusion. This was a well-respected man, known throughout the clans and given passage in all but Azgeda because of his position. That he would walk to this small piece of land where a family of 7 worked day and night just to survive...It was ridiculous. And amazing. 

Anya had also realized later in life that even if her parents had  _ wanted _ to say no and keep her with them, they probably couldn’t. Winter had been on its way and there simply wasn’t enough to feed their family, especially with Mother carrying again and her apparent inability to have a single baby at a time. 

It might not have occurred to them until later, but it most likely occurred to them that having Anya become Eton’s second would open opportunities for their other children as well, like Ash being able to apprentice to a tailor in Polis, and Aeris being taken on by the best blacksmith in all of Trikru. 

Their paths had shifted from the moment Eton had set foot on their land, and even though Anya had hated all of the less physical lessons, she couldn’t deny that she was grateful for them. Because he had forced her to learn to read and write, in both Trigedasleng and Gonasleng; taught her history, battle strategy, mathematics and the lore of all of the keepers - fire, wind, earth, and water - she had been chosen to become Lexa’s first and that had been...As close as she was with Ash, it was nothing compared to her relationship with Lexa. Or what it had been.

Anya shifted, still leaning into her sister, arm still wrapped around her. Eton had been...difficult. He spent more time with his books than with people, so he often missed things. Things like competitions between seconds, the feast after her first successful battle. He’d been so caught up in his books that he hadn’t taken her, leaving her to either go alone or miss out altogether. Sometimes going alone was fine, other times it was good that Eton made sure she trained with the best fighters in all the clans they traveled to. 

_ “Thank you, _ ” Ash murmured, before pulling away. She bent back to the shirt in her hands, this was the last seam and then it was done.

Anya nodded in acknowledgment, but she didn’t feel she deserved it. She would have happily done it all again, and if that was all her life could be. It would be more than enough.

_ “You do need to talk to her though,” _ Ash prodded again.

Anya chuckled, Ash wasn’t one to let something go,  _ “I know.” _ She looked back over her shoulder and shook her head, Clarke’s head had dropped back, her mouth slack in sleep. It looked extremely uncomfortable,  _ “I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Her training needs to begin soon. Or they will drive her mad.” _

_ “If you ended up waiting too long and that girl loses her mind, I’m going to sew all the arm and leg holes of your clothes shut. Again.” _ Ash smirked, remembering the rare chances she’d had to play pranks on Anya. That one had been great.

_ “You do that and you’ll find the entrails of my next kill somewhere unpleasant.” _ Anya glared at her.

Ash laughed,  _ “Just remember, I sleep in the same bed you do.” _

_ “Not necessarily.” _

_ “You would kick me out of my bed? That’s worse than a prank.”  _ Ash pouted.

_ “My bed.” _ Anya tousled Ash’s hair,  _ “And don’t you forget it.” _

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes I know, Clarke managed to get Anya under her control to make her take her to the Ark, but I really can't believe that a little rope was all it would take to make Anya do what you want. Even if she was half-dead.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a day late, but this chapter was a bitch. Started writing something completely different, realized it wasn't right and ended up scrapping the whole damn thing after it was written. Bookwyrm743 saved the day and talked through it with me, so it's thanks to her you actually get a chapter and only a day late. Let me know what you think!

“I need to go into town today, I need more fabric. And we’re almost out of those spices you like.” Ash spoke while stirring their breakfast.

“I need some nails, more rope and I wanted to visit with Ikesh at some point this winter.”

“Shall we all go then?” Ash glanced back to Clarke, who was frozen like an animal startled in the woods.

“Yes. We’ll all go.” Anya confirmed, pulling the meat off a carcass she had brought in earlier.

“Oh, I don’t-

“I said.” Anya paused, “We’ll all go.”

Clarke glared at her, trying to will the other woman into letting her stay behind.

“Have you ever been to one of our villages?” Ash asked, trying to break up the tension.

“Only TonDC.”

Ash chuckled, “That’s not really a village. It’s too big. Too many people.”

“A little over 3000,” Anya confirmed, causing Clarke to blink in surprise.

“I thought...I thought it was only 300.”

Anya grimaced, “The missile that landed in TonDC only took out a small portion of the buildings, and unnecessary ones at that. Buildings for gatherings and leaders to meet, and guest houses for anyone traveling into TonDC. Normally that area would have been almost empty, there was only so many hit because of Heda and her Generals being there.”

Clarke sat fully back in her chair surprised. It had seemed like the entire place had been destroyed, but here Anya was telling her it was civil buildings and a hotel. She had thought it had been villagers- their homes that had been lost.

“Why didn’t I see any other part of TonDC if it’s so big?”

“A common goal doesn’t make you skai people friends. Those buildings are kept separate from the main part of the town in almost every town throughout the coalition. It lets us behave in a friendly way without putting the innocent and vulnerable at risk.” Anya answered

“Eat, now.” Ash placed a full bowl in front of Clarke, “And you go wash, do you always have to do that inside? Now it’s going to smell like blood in here for the rest of the day.”

Anya just rolled her eyes, letting Ash take the raw meat while she walked back outside, letting the door slam behind her. She came back in a few minutes later, clean and dripping. She smirked and swiped down her arm, pushing the water off her skin and sending it flying into Ash’s turned back. Ash stiffened as the water, probably ice cold, splattered across her back. Ash whirled around, glaring at Anya, while she set the spoon in her hand down with purpose. She arched an eyebrow and reached behind her for the full pitcher of water she’d brought in earlier. She hefted it up, breaking into a grin as Anya put her hands out to ward off any sort of foolishness.

“If you throw that at me, I will leave you behind to clean it up while I go into town,” Her eyes got bigger as Ash advanced anyway, “ _ And _ I’ll make you sleep on the floor. Clarke can have your spot.”

Ash paused, gauging how serious Anya was. She took a deep breath and set the pitcher on the table, practically growling. 

Clarke watched in amusement, her upcoming trip into town forgotten for the moment, watching Ash suddenly ignoring Anya with intensity. She refused to move to let her sister get her breakfast, or get around the table, nor would she pass anything to her, making Anya stand up and lean halfway across the table to get the pitcher. Clarke thought maybe she should have passed it, but she had the feeling Ash wasn’t satisfied at having her revenge taken away and she didn’t want to involve herself in any future vengeance.

Breakfast was pretty quiet, it usually was with Clarke still waking up and Anya not being prone to chatter. Mostly it was silent with the sound of cups hitting the table and wood scraping on wood as spoons hit the bottom of the bowl. 

“Did you manage to fix my pants?” Anya broke the silence today as she gathered everything up to wash.

“Do you mean did I make them smaller? Yeah, sure.” Ash let a small semi-gleeful smile peek out. “If you mean will they fit and feel like they used to? Nope.” She popped the ‘p’.

“What? What do you mean they won’t fit? I thought you could make them fit again.” Anya pouted. She actually pouted.

“The leather is stretched out, you can’t unstretch leather,” Ash explained like it should be obvious.

“You.” Anya turned to glare at Clarke. “You ruined my favorite pair of pants.” She set her hands on her hips, letting Clarke know she didn’t need to be running, but she was still maybe going to be yelled at.

“I didn’t ruin anything.” Her hands up in the air, trying to show her innocence.

“Why would you give her your favorite pair of pants to wear?” 

“Because I was wearing the other ones!” Anya protested her role.

“Sounds like a personal problem to me.” Ash’s smile was definitely gleeful now, seeming to enjoy her sister’s loss.

“You’re making me new ones.”

“Nope.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Make me.” 

Clarke was pretty sure that no matter how badly Anya wanted new pants, forcing Ash to make them would be...unwise.

Anya tossed the last of the clean dishes onto the shelf to dry and stalked behind the screen. Muttering and grumbling the entire time. Clarke blinked, realizing that the trip into town was still going to happen, and she was going to be expected to go with them. Shit.

Anya came back from behind the screen and grabbed her coat pulling it on. She also grabbed Clarke’s tossing it on top of her head, making it clear she was going too and there was no getting out of it.

Clarke swallowed hard and stood, pulling on the heavy fur coat and buckling it closed. Anya let Ash lead the way out and waited for Clarke to follow her, bringing up the rear. Clarke was pretty sure it was so she couldn’t get ‘lost’ on their way.

The walk, despite their destination, was nice. It had snowed earlier in the week and it was enough to provide a crisp carpet to walk on, instead of sucking mud pulling at them. Between the packed snow making the path easy to cover and the beauty of the snow-covered trees and bushes, it was actually really nice. Except for leaving the house to learn how to do some of the outside chores, Clarke had mostly stayed inside the four walls of Anya’s cabin; her lungs were better but they still protested the cold, and while it was a nice place, it was small.

Clarke was still looking around, sure she must look a bit ridiculous to the other two women when the village abruptly came into view. Clarke startled a bit, she had just been looking and there was nothing there!

“You skai people are ridiculous.” Anya snarked from behind her.

“Oh leave her alone Anya.” Ash scolded her, slowing down so Clarke came up alongside her. “You’ll come with me, Ikesh is a grumpy old bastard who can’t stand anyone who isn’t a  _ gona _ .”

Clarke glanced at Anya, wondering if she’d actually let her out of her sight. “She’s right. I’ll catch up with you at the pub for lunch.”

Ash latched onto Clarke and began to drag her down what seemed to be the main road of the village. It started off sort of small and narrow, but by the time the cabins were an easy toss apart the road had not only widened but had also gotten busy, now filled with horses, people and a few carts stopped in front of one place or another. 

Finally, Ash pulled her into a sort of open market. It wasn’t large, only a dozen tents set up in the area with large carts and wagons parked behind or beside them. Ash pointed out each one, telling her what they sold, if their product was good, and little bits and pieces about the person hawking their goods behind the loaded tables. 

Ash stopped in at one of the tents, this one set up a bit differently with multiple tables lining the interior walls of the tent, loaded down with cloth, furs, and leathers. Clarke followed her in at first, running her hand through the different materials. Some were rough and coarse, others were softer than anything she had ever felt before, but in the end, it was all fabric and not particularly interesting to her, though to see Ash pawing through it while keeping up a running commentary you’d have thought it was.

Clarke wandered back out, drifting slowly to one tent and then another as she waited. The candle and soap maker was pretty small, not much variety to the wares offered. Next was odds and ends, Clarke was surprised at how much she recognized from Tv shows and Movies, or even from what they had on the Ark. She sifted through a container full of buttons, letting them slip through her fingers. She gave a small smile but left when the owner tried to talk to her. 

She had made it to a tent full of pretties; jewelry, hair adornments, fancy buckles, and other things she didn’t recognize, when Ash caught up to her, arms loaded with fabric.

“I need to drop this off at the pub, then I need to go see Ephraim.” She marched off leaving Clarke to follow.

The pub man laughed and smiled when Ash came in, more than willing to keep her things there until they returned for lunch. He sobered a little bit when Ash told him they were going to see Ephraim and he gestured to them to wait. He returned with a bottle and sent them on their way.

“What’s wrong with Ephraim?” Clarke asked, there were so many things today that she didn’t understand. The language barrier was a big problem.

“He was out hunting geese two weeks ago and didn’t make it home before the first snow fell. It was a heavy snowfall, much worse than what we got this week, and he was out in it for several days. I only know that he’s been very sick since he returned.” Ash walked with such speed that Clarke was practically jogging trying to keep up. “He was a good friend of my father’s, we’ve known him since we were little. I’m sure Anya will stop by to see him as well.

Clarke nodded, not wanting to waste the breath on an unnecessary response. 

They stopped in front of a large cabin two stories tall; one of a handful that Clarke had noticed and waited on the porch after Ash had knocked. 

Clarke offered a silent smile to the family as Ash offered hugs, obviously good friends with more than just the man they were here to visit. She stayed behind in the main room, enjoying the warmth of the fire, while Ash went upstairs to see her friend. She continued to stand there when there was a knock on the door. She didn’t know how she knew, but Clarke was certain it was Anya on the other side.

Anya noticed Clarke and nodded to her, before she also made her way upstairs, urgency in her movements. Clarke felt incredibly awkward, especially when an old woman came up to her and spoke. She didn’t know what she had said, so she simply offered a timid smile. It didn’t seem to be the right thing when the woman huffed and stomped away, but a few moments later a hot drink was shoved into her hands and she was maneuvered back into a chair. Her knees hit the edge and she sat with an ungraceful thump, half a cheek off the chair and only just avoiding tipping off the side. The old woman chuckled and left her, returning to the cooking fire in the back.

“Clarke.” Anya called from the top of the stairs, hurrying down them, “Clarke, can you see if you can help him?”

Clarke stood, her body seeming to respond before she could even think about it. She set her cup down and followed up the steep stairs, holding tightly to the handrail to help haul herself up. The upstairs seemed to be separated into one fully closed off room and one open room with multiple beds set up. She was led past the shared bedroom and into a much smaller bedroom, this one contained only a large bed, like Anya’s and tub like the one Anya used for bathing and washing laundry in.

Clarke's attention was quickly grabbed by the man resting in the bed. He was under a pile of furs, but what she could see was pale and sweaty. She spoke quietly, telling him what she was going to do before she did it. He must not speak  _ gonasleng _ or not very well, because Anya translated everything she said as she said it. She worked as quickly as she could, especially when she pulled down the furs needing access to his hands and torso.

Clarke pulled up his hands, noticing the blue tinge on his fingernails. She stared, not noticing as everything around her began hollowing out, other sounds fading into a distant muffled background. Despite the way her hearing had faded out, her head was oddly clear while she lifted his shirt, leaning down to rest her ear against his chest. 

Clarke had seen this before, especially from the sections of the Ark that ran colder than the others; but she had never heard lungs that bad before. Normally they were crackly, but this...She wasn’t sure how she knew, but that was fluid, a lot of it, in his lungs. Clarke pulled back, her eyes drawn to the old mans'. They stared at each other for a moment that stretched into eternity. He gave one sharp nod, which snapped Clarke back into her body. Not enough for her hearing to return, but enough so that she could move again.

Clarke moved back, exiting the room as the man’s family converged on him. Anya and Ash followed her closely as she headed straight for the door, needing to be outside. An arm grabbed her, spun her around to face them, and while she could see both of their mouths moving the sound still didn’t make it to her ears. Odd.

Her eyes met Anya’s, not sure of what she wanted, but the other woman stopped talking, even reaching out to grab Ash’s arm so she stopped too. They just stared at Clarke who turned away, facing the busy street in front of the house. She dropped to the ground, folding her legs underneath her as she dropped. 

Time seemed to bend and stretch, distorting in Clarke’s head and with every blink she separated more and more from everything around her until she felt like she was floating behind her own body. She was almost able to watch herself, flanked by Anya and Ash, as she sat in the midst of life but still somehow disconnected from it.

Clarke couldn’t tell what it was, but something clicked in her head. She stood abruptly, still not speaking and returned to the house, ascending the stairs with silence, grace, and speed that she didn’t notice. She kept moving into the room and past its occupants who parted for her without any prompting.

She stopped beside the bed and crouched down, eyes boring into Ephraims. Her vision tunneled until the brown of his eyes filled her vision. When the tunnel receded she blinked a few times, only just noticing the slight smile. She gave a slight nod and reached her hand to rest on his forehead.

“ _ Yu Gonplei ste odon.” _ Her voice wasn’t her own. There was a hint of her voice in it, but it was overlaid with a thousand others, each ringing with its own weight, bell-like in how it echoed and pierced through her odd hearing. She closed his eyes as his breathing stopped.

No gasping or struggling, just peace.

Clarke blinked and inhaled deeply and as she exhaled everything snapped back to normal. Her hearing, her vision, her awareness of what was around her.

The room was mostly silent save for the old woman speaking quickly and urgently in Trig. She grabbed Clarke’s hands, still speaking, pressing a small leather bag into her hands. She glanced at Anya for an explanation but she was silent. Listening.

Clarke looked back at Ephraim, his still frame looking better in death than he had a few hours ago and she turned away, needing to be gone. Anya and Ash must have both noticed as Ash came and stood behind her, not quite supporting her but still keeping her upright. Anya spoke a bit, accepting hugs before she began leading them down the stairs. Clarke didn’t understand the hands that touched her, brushing along her arms as she walked past, and the murmured words, but they didn’t sound angry.

She followed along numbly, feeling hollowed out as they walked back through the village, stopping for a short time at the pub to pick up the fabrics Ash had left. She accepted an armful and began following again as the other two walked quickly. Retracing their steps from this morning.

When they reached the cabin Ash grabbed the armload Clarke was carrying and disappeared inside, leaving Anya and Clarke standing in the cold. Clarke blinked as she noticed snowflakes landing on her face, making her eyelashes stick together. She blinked some trying to unstick them and clenched her hands, noticing for the first time the small leather bag still clutched in her left one. She pulled the drawstring and tipped it upside down, letting the contents fall into her hand.

Anya stepped closer, moving to her side as a small piece of metal dropped into her palm, fitting snugly.

“It’s a Triskell.” Anya shifted, looking away for a moment before taking a deep breath. “It’s the sign of Wanheda.”

“What is Wanheda?” Clarke’s eyebrows were furrowed. 

“In your language,” Anya hesitated, taking another deep breath, “Wanheda means the Commander of Death.”

“Death.” Clarke closed her fist tightly, ignoring the bite of the edges into her skin. Death. Death. Death. It repeated in her mind, hollowing her out and detaching her from her body for the second time today.

Anya grabbed the younger girl as she began to shake, her body rattling hard enough for her teeth to clack together. Anya wrapped herself around Clarke, holding tight as her body arched backwards moving from small shakes to hard judders. Ash came back out, holding one of the furs from the bed. She helped Anya wrap the other girl up, her skin was pale and clammy. They sat out on the snowy ground, waiting until Clarke’s body relaxed, slumping into Anya’s body more fully. It took far longer than it should, but as soon as it did Anya picked her up, carrying her into the cabin and setting her on the bed and draping more furs over her.

“We’ll need water for tea when she wakes.” Ash nodded and hurried out to get more water.

Anya sat on the edge of the bed, pushing Clarke’s hair out of her face, “Come on Clarke. Don’t let this be what breaks you.” Her forehead crease, realizing. She reached down and grabbed Clarke’s clenched fist, prying her fingers open to reveal the Triskell, now coated with blood as it oozed from the cuts on Clarke’s hand. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.tattootribes.com/multimedia/94/tribal-triskell.png


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a few people ask, I try to post Wednesday and Sunday and usually by 8pmMT. That said if my life goes to shit, I'm not going to post(I'm sure no one is surprised).  
> Also, this is going to be a longer fic. We're already at 50 pages and I won't be surprised if I end up with at least another 100 before this is done (but knowing me closer to 200), so if you like it subscribe or bookmark or whatever you do and know that it'll happen.

Anya ran her hand down the horse's nose, enjoying the feel of its muzzle underneath her palm. Her previous horse hadn’t made it off the bridge that had also killed Tris. Her lips twitched as the horse shoved forward, crowding into her space. She rubbed down his sides, offering him comfort and soothing. 

“ _ You got him from Ad alright _ ?” Ash joined her, offering a chunk of carrot to the horse who mouthed it out of her hand, chomping on the treat.

Anya hummed her confirmation,  _ “And made me bring a damn cat home with him.” _

Ash shrugged,  _ “It’ll keep the mice out.” _

Anya looked at her and made a face,  _ “I’d rather have the mice than the cat.” _

Ash chuckled,  _ “You’re just afraid that we’ll see you being soft with the cat. Don’t try and lie to me, all of us know you adore cats.” _

_ “I do not,” _ Anya grumbled, still stroking the horse.

_ “Is the cat staying with me, or going with you?” _

Anya’s eyebrows drew together at the slight change of course,  _ “She’s staying here. I’ll have plenty of time to work with him.” _ She grabbed the lead, guiding the horse to a corner of the porch, tying him there with plenty of room.  _ “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. How is she?”  _ Anya jerked her chin towards the front door.

_ “Mad that you left without saying anything.” _ Ash gave her a look,  _ “And that you didn’t take her with you.” _

Anya rolled her eyes,  _ “Why do I always get stuck with the dramatic ones?” _

_ “You say that like you aren’t dramatic as well. You just hide it better.” _

_ “True.” _ Anya offered a smirking grin,  _ “Is the meat ready?” _

_ “Finished drying yesterday. And since you’re only making a short trip and taking the horse I packed some grain, nuts, and fruits too.” _ Ash took off her coat, hanging it by the door, " _ she’ll appreciate the variety.” _

_ “Has she not been eating?” _

_ “Breakfast, yes.” _ Ash shook her head,  _ “But she hasn’t eaten more than a few mouthfuls for dinner since you left.” _

_ “Damn stubborn sky brat.” _

“What about  _ skai  _ people?” Clarke interrupted from her seat on the floor by the fire. She was wrapped in her coat and sitting as close to the fire as she dared. It had been three days since they’d gone to the village and she had struggled to get warm since then. Even the tiredness that seemed forged in her bones wasn’t as bad as the chill that made her ache.

“You’re all stubborn and stupid.” Anya gave a rough translation.

“I really need to learn to speak Trig.” Clarke rolled her eyes, Ash and Anya made it a habit of speaking Trig whenever they didn’t want her to know what they were saying, so it probably wasn’t a correct translation. Ok maybe it was, but it wasn’t everything.

“You’ve been doing pretty well the last few days.” Ash gestured to a bunch of oiled pouches, bulging on the table, “That’s what I packed for you.”

“You’re leaving again?” Clarke was pissed, she was stuck here in this stup-

“ **We** are leaving.” Anya corrected her, amused at the obvious irritation the other girl was feeling, “In the morning.”

“Oh.”

Anya chose not to say anything else, just inspecting the pouches, adding little things here and there that Ash hadn’t. “You’ll want to grab an extra shirt.” She rummaged in the back corner piled with junk and pulled out two bags attached to each other by a long thin strip of material, “Clothes go in this pouch, the rest will go in the other.” She pointed to each one and began loading them.

“Don’t forget clean underwear. I didn’t spend a day sewing those for you so you could ignore them.” Ash reminded. “You too Anya.”

“Thank you, Nomon.” Anya snarked at her. 

Clarke hauled herself up, her movements stiff and slow and went to her corner pulling clothes out of the bag hung on the wall and setting them down on her new bed. Apparently, that’s what Anya had needed the rope and nails for. It was a pretty simple thing, and Clarke was sure that Ash would be using it instead of the sisters sharing a bed when Clarke was gone, but it was still so much better than the ground. 

Clarke rolled her spares into the clean shirt and grabbed a soft cloth Ash had given her to dry herself with after bathing and folded that in as well. She could easily wash the underwear and spare breast band, but it was really irritating putting on dry clothes over wet skin.

She handed her bundle to Anya who tucked it into the pouch with an approving nod. Anya looked from the half-full clothing pouch to her wall of stuff, contemplating what extras she would bring since they had so much extra room. She grabbed a few more jars of herbs, placing the actual jars into the pouch this time and added a bar of soap and a few candles that she hadn’t planned on taking.

“Where are we going?” Clarke blurted out, causing Anya to smile; she held out longer than Anya had expected.

“We will be going to Eton’s caves,” Anya told her choosing not to explain that while they were called Eton’s caves by everyone in the area, they were also known as a place of knowledge about Wanheda. It was where  _ Wankepas _ studied, storing the books of lore and instruction. Anya really didn’t want to let Clarke know that until they arrived, it would be a lot harder for her to take off in the precarious terrain surrounding the caves. 

“Why does going to the caves mean that you had to take off for two days?” Clarke was still stuck on that.

“Because you aren’t up to the trip, so I had to go and get a horse from my brother.”

Clarke stilled her eyes widening until it was almost comical. “You got a horse?!” Clarke was already heading to the door with more speed than she’d had in a very long time, though it did mean she tripped and had to catch herself against the door frame before yanking the door open.

Clarke burst forward again stopping just a few feet from the horse, eyes still wide at the sheer size of the creature in front of her. “It’s so big.”

Anya walked up behind and snorted, “He’s actually not. He’s been bred for working.” She grabbed the lead untying it and leading him out into the open area in the front of the house. “Come on out and meet him properly.”

“What is that?” Clarke was staring with concern at the creature sitting on the horse's rump.

Anya glanced behind, scowling when she saw her, “That is his cat.”

“Cat? That’s a cat?” Clarke had seen pictures and shows with cats on them and this didn’t look much like any of them. And wait- “His?”

“Yes, his cat.” Anya led him around so he was facing the front porch, ignoring the cat that was quite happy with her situation.

“Wha-Why?” 

Anya sighed, “Horses are herd animals, they do better with a group. Warhorses are bonded to their  _ gona _ as close to weaning age as possible so they do pretty well with just one person for a while. Workhorses like this one are raised with a full herd, they don’t do as well without regular socialization. The cat helps with that.” Anya rubbed the horse's forehead and muzzle as he rested his chin on her shoulder, “And he can be a temperamental little shit too, the cat helps calm him down without risking damage to the rest of the herd or making Ad geld him.”

Clarke just blinked at the information overload. She decided that she didn’t need to understand it any more than she did to pet a horse, so she stepped forward when Anya gestured, coming to a stop just a few feet away when Anya raised her hand slightly from her thigh.

“Always approach a horse from the front and from the left. If you can’t, try to attract it’s attention so it knows you’re there. They’ll usually move so they can see you and then you can at least approach from one side.” Anya was in full teacher mode. “Never approach from behind unless you want to see how much damage a horse kick can do.”

Clarke nodded, biting her lip she just wanted to pet the damn horse, she hadn’t been able to during negotiations.

“Talk softly around them, they aren’t fond of loud noises, although this one has been trained to handle them pretty well.” Anya waved her forward, and Clarke couldn’t help the massive smile that grew as she got closer, the horse stepping closer as well and snuffing at her. “Offer a hand for the horse to smell, careful with sudden movements.”

Clarke raised her hand trying to contain a squeal of glee when he sniffed at her hand, his nose was so soft! Clarke glanced at Anya before slowing moving both hands up to touch the sides of his face and along his muzzle where she’d seen Anya rubbing.

“This part here,” Anya gestured to right in front of his nose, “Is a blind spot, he can’t see what’s there or what’s directly behind him.”

Clarke was paying total attention, yep.

“Keep an eye on his ears and his body language. His ears will tell you where he’s looking, or if they’re flat back that he’s angry or in pain. If he’s stiff, tense, sidestepping or anything like that he’s not comfortable and he could bite or kick to defend himself.

Clarke was running her hands down the side of his neck, almost reaching past where Anya stood. He was so soft all over and once he was done smelling her, he just let her pet him! Clarke had never dreamed she’d ever actually get to do this, even if there was a cat sitting on his butt while she petted him.

“Stay here with him.” Anya dropped the lead, walking away and leaving Clarke a little freaked out. He was really nice to pet, but she didn’t know what she was doing! Why would Anya leave her with this massive animal who could squish her and his pet cat? What if she broke them? The horse sifted moving so Clarke was more fully on one side and now much closer to the cat. She continued to pet the horse, almost scared to stop now and kept glancing back at the cat. The cat was about the same size as the ones she’d seen pictures of but it had really long ears like a rabbit, and instead of being fluffy, it’s fur seemed really short. It also didn’t seem to have a tail? At least not that Clarke could see. Its coloring was pretty normal though, a nice solid brown with no variation.

Clarke continued staring at the cat while she absently petted the horse, not really noticing that the cat was staring back at her just as intently. It must have decided that she was acceptable as it just curled up and closed its eyes, ignoring Clarke and showing that while it did have a tail, it was very short and curled around itself.

Anya came back, carrying an armload that she dropped on the ground. “Now you need to know how to saddle a horse.”

“Why?” Clarke wanted to pet him, not saddle him. Or ride him, that either. Clarke looked at the horses back that was a few inches shorter than her head, but still too damn high.

“You’ll be riding him tomorrow. You need to know how to care for him.” Anya ignored Clarke’s odd noise and continued, “First you need to make sure he’s clean and there’s no junk in his hair. Anything in his hair that ends up underneath the saddle will rub into his skin leaving sores and he’ll be in pain.” Anya demonstrated a long brush stroke from the lower part of his neck down to his butt, kicking the cat off. She didn’t seem to mind though, she was more than happy to twine around Ash’s legs where she sat on the porch. Anya handed the brush to Clarke letting her brush him clean, only stopping her to explain about brushing down his sides instead of across them. “If you’ve brushed him down the night before, a visual check will probably be good enough, but if it’s been a while since he’s been brushed, it won’t hurt to brush him down first.”

Anya bent to sort through the pile, pulling out a soft pelt from the pile and giving it a sharp shake, “Once you’re sure he’s clean this is the first layer, it can be any material, but it keeps the leather straps from rubbing and giving him sores. Before you put it on him you need to make sure this doesn’t have anything that could rub him wrong.” 

Anya laid the pelt across his back, shifting it a bit to meet some mark that Clarke could see. Anya picked up the rest of the bundle and slung it across his back, settling it into place. She pushed and pulled straps from where they were gathered on top of it before going on, “This is the saddle, it shouldn’t touch any part of his skin, only the fur. Same goes for the straps except for where they reach under his belly.” Anya then showed her how to hook the straps together and cinch them tight, making sure to warn her three times over about pulling it tight again after the horse had done a full inhale and exhale, something about a horse holding their breath to make the straps looser.

Anya unlatched everything and slid the saddle off dropping the surprisingly light saddle into her hands. She made her go through the entire process of putting the saddle on and getting everything strapped properly four times before she made Clarke’s heart freeze.

“Time to get on him.” Anya ignored the fact that she’d gone still and hauled her forward, switching positions so she was closer to his neck and Clarke was by the stirrups.

“You’ll put your left foot in here and then just haul yourself up.” Anya positioned the stirrup so the metal was perpendicular to the horses' side.

Clarke looked at the stirrup and then looked at Anya, “That thing is as high as my stomach, how am I supposed to put my foot in that?”

“Just do it.”

Clarke grumped and lifted her foot up, hooking it into the saddle. She squeaked in surprise when Anya grabbed her by the hips and practically threw her up into the saddle, she didn’t even have to try to lift herself up. Anya ignored her and adjusted the straps to the stirrups until she was satisfied with them and hand the reins up to Clarke.

  
  


The rest of the afternoon had been spent with Anya teaching Clarke how to guide the horse and how to move with him, including when he was cantering and galloping. All Clarke knew was that they were uncomfortable while she was sitting in the saddle. Really that was nothing compared to the pain she had been in this morning. She had woken up in the early hours of the morning, only sure of that because Anya was still snoring next to Ash, her thighs aching and burning with every breath. It hurt so much that she’d only been able to doze until Anya finally stopped snoring and began to wake up.

Clarke had managed to get into a sitting position, but she’d been unable to get to her feet and Ash had laughed while she’d helped her stand and take a few hobbling steps to the table. Anya had just grinned and tossed her a pouch of nuts and fruit and told her it was time to go, leaving Ash to help her hobble out.

Fortunately, Anya hadn’t even suggested she lift her leg up and try to haul herself into the saddle, She’d just lifted the younger girl up, holding onto her a bit longer until she managed to sit upright and hold on.

Anya had jumped up behind her, grabbing the reins and giving a small wave to Ash she’d turned them around and started them off. The pain had continued to be a problem until the sun was fully up, then the numbness had set in and Clarke just tried not to flex anything. She made that mistake once and the pins and needles had been breathtaking.

Now they were climbing up a thin trail, rock to the right and a steep drop to the left. Anya had gotten off before they started climbing, offering to help Clarke off too for a break, but she’d refused afraid that if she got off she would collapse. Anya had just smirked at her, teasing her before leading the horse up trail. It hadn’t made much sense at first, Clarke knew they were going uphill, but she hadn’t quite understood how high up they had gone until the trees started to thin and she realized there were more treetops below them than trees around them.

It had made her grateful as she watched Anya pick her way up, occasionally stopping to kick bigger rocks to the side or to launch dead tree pieces down the side, to still be on the horse. Anya had stopped more often during this part of the trip than she ever had during any of their walks before, and Clarke was now holding her coat, ditched because of the sheen of sweat on her face.

“Look up there.” Anya’s voice startled her, making her wince as her thighs flexed. She looked up ahead and saw a curve, this one pretty sharp and furrowed her eyebrows, there was nothing to see but the same open space and rocky cliff she’d been looking at. She kept watching, sure that Anya wasn’t just making her look for a joke. As they turned the bend she understood, taking in her first look at the much higher walls that created a sort-of courtyard for a grassy area that led to a cave opening. The grass was incredibly green, more like the grass she had seen before the Mountain when the weather had been much warmer.

“Is this it?” Clarke asked, craning her head and looking around. There was a small corral built into one side and the cave had a large cloth cover pulled to one side. It was interesting and different from anything she’d seen since arriving on the ground.

“This is it,” Anya brought the horse to a stop and helped Clarke down, bursting into full-on body shaking laughter when Clarke’s legs gave up as soon as she let go.

Clarke just sat there and glared, the ground wasn’t too cold here so she was just going to stay.

Anya calmed down and led the horse to the corral, pulling the saddle and bags off and brushing him down while Clarke continued to sit. She only moved when Anya came back and hauled her to her feet helping her hobble her way to the cave.

It was spacious inside with shelves leaning against the wall, a fire ring and wood stack set up near the door and a rack of furs set up near a particularly smooth area of rock.

“There’s a stream running through the back room,” Anya grabbed a bucket off a shelf, “I’m going to grab some water; get a fire started and shake out some furs. I hate sleeping on musty ones.”

Clarke nodded while Anya walked out, not really sure how she was going to walk the ten feet to the small woodpile by herself. She took a deep breath and started, she was sure she looked like a toddler taking her first steps, but she made it.

She had the fire started and the furs laid out by the time Anya came back, either that stream was really far back or Anya had been up to something else.

“I’ll get started on a hot meal for tonight and then we should get some rest.” Anya started pulling things out, “You should stretch or tomorrow will be even worse.”

“Worse? How can it possibly get worse?” Clarke wanted to cry at the thought.

Anya cooked and talked her through some stretches that had Clarke whimpering, but she couldn’t deny that it felt better when she was done.

“You still haven’t told me why we’re here,” Clarke said through a mouthful of oats. “Who is this Eton dude?”

“Dude?” Anya didn’t know the term, but she shook her head it didn’t matter, “Eton was my  _ fos _ .”

Clarke looked at her, surprised, “You had a first?”

“I think we’ve established in the last few weeks that I did not spring up fully formed.” Anya rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her food. 

“So Eton trained you to be a  _ gona,” _ Clarke stated.

“No,” Anya shook her head, “Eton taught me very little of fighting and weapons. He taught me some, but he mostly asked other warriors to teach me those skills.” Anya focused on her bowl, suddenly a bit hesitant to actually look at the other girl, “Eton taught me much of the old world - how to read and write, do mathematics, history, and how to be  _ Wankepa _ .”

“ _ Wankepa..”  _ Clarke’s breath caught in her throat, “Like Wanheda?”

Anya stood and gathered the now empty bowls, turning her back to Clarke as she washed them. Clarke could barely hear the ‘yes’ that was spoken to the wall.

“Why?” Clarke’s voice was full of the tears that had filled her eyes.

Anya turned back and came to kneel by Clarke’s side, wrapping her arm around Clarke’s should in a half-hug, “Because whether you want to be or not, you are very close to being Wanheda, and it is not something that should happen without help.”

“I don’t. I don’t want to be Wanheda.” A tear slipped, leaving a mark down her cheek.

“You don’t know what it means to be Wanheda.” Anya soothed her.

“Commander of Death seems pretty self-explanatory.” Clarke sniffed.

“To be the Commander of Death means having the ability to bring death to those around you, yes. But it also means being able to choose who lives.” Anya hugged her a bit closer, “It means being able to protect the ones you love, it means being able to know which choices will bring the least death. It means changing the world and saving lives. You could never be Wanheda without your ability to heal.”

Clarke accepted the hug, thinking about what Anya said. “You said 'close to being.'”

Clarke felt the nod more than saw it, “You have a choice, it will not be forced on you.”

“Then I don’t want it!”

“Even if it means saving the lives of all of your friends? Your mom? Not to mention the number of my people you could also save.”

“Save them from what?”

“I don’t know,” Anya admitted, “But Wanheda is not like Fleimheda - Lexa. Wanheda does not join with a vessel unless the world has the potential to change. The last time I know of Wanheda taking a vessel, it was when my people emerged into the world after Praimfaya. Before that, it was just before Praimfaya happened.”

“What does that mean?”

“Wanheda gives you knowledge and power to change the world.” Anya didn’t know how else to explain it, “And with it, the ability to save those who are most important to you..or at least to know why those deaths are needed.”

“How could I know why deaths are needed?”

“That is a question for Wanheda.”

“Then how do I ask Wanheda?”

Anya leaned away, finally letting Clarke out of the hug, “She has been trying, the dreams…”

“How does trying to beat the crap out of me and demanding freedom let me ask questions?”

Anya shook her head, “Do you know why we burn our dead?”

Clarke shook her head.

“We burn them to release their souls. One of the abilities of Wanheda’s vessel, often the first ability to show itself,” Anya took a deep breath not believing that she was actually here and doing this, “Is the ability to keep the souls of the dead from moving on. I was taught that it was used when a person couldn’t be allowed to affect the world, but might still have knowledge that was needed.” Anya shifted onto her knees, coming to kneel in front of Clarke and grabbing her hands. “Those dreams, where you see the faces of the dead and they hurt you..They are really there. You have trapped their souls in the Spirit Realm. They demand freedom because your guilt keeps them from moving on.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't really the chapter you've been waiting for, but the next one with Clarke and Anya has a shitton of info in it and it's going to be set-up for literally the rest of this fic. So here's a small offering while I slave away on the next chap.

Lexa shifted, allowing her weight to fall on her back foot and leaned back. The sweep of air across her face signaled her to rise, untwisting from the slightly precarious backbend. She shifted her weight forward again allowing the satisfying contact of her sword to thud into another. A full step forward this time, pressing the advantage while her opponent tried to recover from the missed strike and landed a punch in the ribs.

Her opponent grunted at the hit, bringing his own sword back around to engage again, but it was shaky, a quiver to the tip of the sword present that hadn’t been there before and wasn’t due to tiredness. He swung again, trying to use his height and weight against the smaller girl, but she danced out and away from him, spinning around until he could feel the thump of the blade against his back. He stumbled forward, managing to catch himself only to feel a boot to the back of his knee and another jab to the same part of his ribs. He dropped to a knee and let his sword go, not actually needing to feel the metal of the blade at his back to know he had been defeated.

Lexa held the position a moment longer, ensuring there would be no dirty tricks played in this match before she stepped back. A seken was already running across the training pit to grab the training sword in her hand and the one now laying on the dirt floor in defeat.

“Mochof, Jaks,” Lexa clasped arms with the man.

“Heda.” He bowed his head, not at all put out that he had just been bested by the smaller and younger girl.

Lexa nodded an acknowledgment and sighed, Titus was hovering at the edge of the ring. He should have been working with the nightbloods at this time of day. Lexa suppressed the disappointment that she would not be getting another sparring match or two in and accepted her sword and dagger from the guard who had held them while she worked. She strapped them in their places as she joined the bald man, ignoring the stern look on his face. They walked in silence back to the tower maintaining it even in the elevator and the hallways.

When the doors to the throne room had shut behind them, Titus wasted no time in starting, “It is beneath you to train with the warriors of Polis. Especially one with no standing.”

Lexa tried not to roll her eyes, she really did, “And who would you suggest I spar with?”

Lexa almost smiled as she watched his nostrils flare while he tried to tamp down on his anger, but it was short-lived. The truth was that she had rarely needed to spar with the warriors in years past. Gustus had always been more than willing to put her through her paces. And before everything had happened with Anya she would spend hours of the winter days in the training pit, trading blows and swapping out training swords for undamaged ones. 

Lexa looked away, not bothered by Titus anger but her own sadness. Indra used to say that during the winter months she traded the red of Heda for the more varied colors of a warrior. The comment was meant as a scolding, but Lexa was never quite able to suppress the joy and pride she felt after a full day of sparring. It was even better when she had learned or mastered some new ability or movement, which she was able to do regularly thanks to having a sparring partner that she knew and trusted. It was good to spar with the warriors, it was a boost for them and kept her skills sharp. But she could never trust that they wouldn’t play dirty in order to claim that they had beaten their Heda. Nor could she try anything new during a spar for fear that they wouldn’t be skilled enough to not kill her if it didn’t go well.

Damn, she missed them.

“-Really do need to find a replacement for Gustus, you cannot continue the way you have been.” Apparently, Titus hadn’t noticed her lapse in attention. “Heda’s guard cannot go everywhere with you without it seeming to be weakness. You have to replace him so that you can be properly protected once more.”

“You have yet to find me anyone who is tolerable, let alone skilled enough to take on the task.” The last candidate for her personal guard had been more focused on trying to get into her bed than protect her, it probably wasn’t a loss that he’d never be able to have children after her..response to his proposition.

Titus gave a conceding nod, even he knew that the previous candidates had been terrible. Simply put, no one really wanted the job. Most Heda’s died in battle, with only a few succumbing to illness or an assassin's blade, but most Heda’s hadn’t ruled for more than a few years, nor had they lived with anything like the peace the coalition had established. Lexa had been ruling as Heda for 9 years, and with the coalition, the call for war or even smaller fights had decreased greatly, but as the fighting decreased the assassination attempts had increased. In the last two years, the most dangerous job in the coalition was to be one of Heda’s guards, and the danger was increasing. There had only been 6 attempts on her life the year before, but there had been 8 since the fall of the Mountain. Most likely from Ice Nation and their allies, displeased with their place in the coalition, but unwilling to give up the benefits.

“What is it that you wanted to discuss with me?” Lexa glanced at Titus to find him looking at her expectantly but she had no idea what he may have been saying. She arched an eyebrow when he didn’t respond right away. He cleared his throat and let go of whatever he might have been saying, probably some sort of lecture.

“Indra has sent a messenger, he said it was important.” Titus finally came out with it.

“If it is important, why is he not already here giving me his report?” Lexa scowled. 

“I wanted to speak to you first,”

“About?” Lexa kept her tone even, but she couldn’t avoid the clipped tone of the word.

“The Boudalan ambassador has been attempting to see the nightblood from his clan. He refuses to accept ‘No’ for an answer.”

Lexa just stared, surely this wasn’t what he was delaying a message over. 

“He simply will not accept that the child is no longer his concern.” Titus continued to state his complaint.

“Reina is 4.” Lexa was fighting with every breath not to roll her eyes..or throw a blade. “And she is his niece. The only daughter of his sister and her husband who died this spring.”

Titus looked confused as to why she was giving him this information that he already knew.

“He is not looking to harm her or to sway her. He wants to see his only living family member and know she is alright.”

“It is tradition that all nightblood children are separated from their families and brought here to Polis to be raised by the Fleimkepa and Heda, without any interference from their family or their clan. We can not make an exception or everyone will be asking for an exception.”

This time Lexa couldn’t resist and let her eyes roll, hearing the faint whisper of Anya’s voice in the back of her head telling her that one day her eyes would stick back there. “Let him see his niece. There is no need to leave him alone with her, but give him a chance to see that she is well treated and fairly happy.” Titus looked like he was going to protest, “Send in the messenger.” She cut him off before he could start again.

He hesitated another moment, only moving when Lexa glared at him and moved her hand to the sheathed sword on her hip. He went to the door and pulled it open, stepping out for a short bit before returning with a Trikru messenger trailing behind him.

“Heda,” The messenger dipped his head, “Indra sent me from TonDC yesterday morning. A small family of four was traveling from  _ Ouskejon _ back to Trikru. They stopped to rest for the night by a stream near the Mountain. They were preparing to rest for the evening when they found themselves surrounded by Skaikru. Skaikru threatened them with their guns and made them leave the area claiming that it was theirs. The family chose to travel the rest of the way to TonDC that night, despite the risks. Chief Indra instructed me to tell you that this has happened a few times, but never before to anyone other than warriors or scouts. It was also within the perimeter set.” The messenger dipped his head again, signaling the end of his message.

Lexa nodded and dismissed him, unsurprised when Titus barely waited for the door to close behind him before he burst.

“I TOLD you that Skaikru was a problem that needed to be dealt with.” His face mottled with his anger.

“Or this is a result of not speaking with them since the Mountain and they are behaving this way as a result of feeling unsure of their position and resources.” Lexa didn’t like it, but she understood their behavior. There had been more than one battle fought as a result of resources that weren’t assured to those who needed it. 

“They point their guns at any of our people that come close. Speaking with them was never an option.” Titus was still immersed in his rage.

“And because of the harvest and upcoming winter, we didn’t put much effort into it.” Lexa raised her hand when Titus began again, “They have not actually harmed anyone, yet. We will use these months to come up with a solution and when the winter snows melt we will meet with them and lay out terms.”

Lexa could hear the muscles in Titus’ jaw pop as he gritted his teeth but he only offered a small bow, murmuring, “I will see that it is added to the agenda.”

Lexa dismissed him with a flick of her hand. She looked around the throne room, empty and quiet, the thought of Skaikru giving her a headache. Maybe there was time for one more sparring match today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naughty Skaikru. Also, did anyone else notice that eyeroll when Lexa was trying to rest and Clarke was obsessing before the Mountain? Eye-rolling Heda is my favorite.


	17. Chapter 17

“This is all of the knowledge that we have of Wanheda.” Anya walked first into a massive cavern, ceilings too tall for the light of torches to reach them. Clarke looked around, surprised at the shelves full of books. Some of them looked like they were from the old world, while others were little more than loose sheaves of paper stuck between a piece of folded leather. There were even some scrolls shoved onto a tabletop in one corner, overflowing the surface and down onto the floor. Anya noticed them at the same time Clarke did and she moved immediately to pick them up, carefully balancing them on the pile.

Clarke turned in a slow circle taking it all in, she had never seen this many books in one place before. The ark only had a few brought by the original ark crew, and they had been so well used that the books, while still in existence, were kept tucked away in a storage box. Or they had been before the ark fell. Clarke walked to the table and opened the book, letting the sheets of paper sift through. It was an odd feeling, and there was a particular smell coming from the book, but it wasn’t unpleasant and she could see the appeal to reading a physical book as opposed to the tablets used on the ark.

She finished her circle, Anya was opening the scrolls, reading through some while quickly discarding others. She gathered a stack of them and moved them to another table, this one was set in the middle of the room and completely clear except for the layer of dust on it. Clarke stifled a chuckle when Anya saw the dust and glanced between the table and the scrolls several times, clearly not wanting to set the scrolls in the dust, but also unwilling to return them to the messy table behind her.

Clarke solved the problem for her, using the sleeve of her shirt to swipe more of the dust away. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for Anya who nodded before dumping the scrolls down, catching one just before it fell to the ground. Anya swept around the room, darting from one shelf to another, collecting more things to dump on the table. Finally, she grabbed two stools that were tucked away and dragged them over, plopping them side by side and taking a seat, gesturing Clarke to the other one.

Clarke took a seat, watching as Anya began sorting the scrolls out, muttering under her breath the entire time. Finally, she stopped, the table arranged to her liking, and looked at Clarke. It was the first time she’d fully looked at her since last night when she had told Clarke about the spirits clinging to her.

Clarke shifted under the scrutiny, it was intense and uncomfortable. Her emotions were mixed up, even more than they had been right after the mountain, but now the strongest feeling was shame. Not for her choices, but for how she was reacting to everything. Last night, like the after the mountain, she had shut down. She hadn’t slept, hadn’t moved..she wasn’t even sure if she blinked while she stared at the fire, her thoughts at war. On one hand, this was an answer and if Anya knew that the spirits were real and what was happening with them, then maybe she could help her get rid of them.

On the other hand...Spirit realm? It stretched the limits of belief for a girl raised on science, logic, and technology. Sure there had been the Eden Tree worshipers, but that was the only real religion on the ark. Anything else had been rejected by the original scientists, or simply suppressed by leaders who didn’t want a source of contention onboard.

Clarke looked back to Anya when she heard her sigh heavily, confused as to why she was shaking her head. Anya slammed her hands down on the table, shoving herself up and away from the surface and she walked out of the cavern, towards the one they had stayed in the night before, leaving Clarke alone and surrounded by things she didn’t understand.

Clarke reached out to one of the scrolls, this one was more folded than rolled and unbent the sides carefully, it was covered in writing that she couldn’t understand. A few of the words were recognizable but it was Trigedasleng, what really caught her attention were the drawings interspersed throughout the text. The first one that caught her eye was the same Triskell that she had been given, it’s sharp points and curved lines were large and bold. It was easily the biggest symbol on the page, but the others were just as beautiful; an infinity symbol, a triple wavy line that curled around itself, forming a sort of moon shape, and a stylized inverted triangle. 

Anya set a cup down with a thunk, startling Clark, “Drink.”

Clarke reached for the cup downing the bitter, herby mixture in just a few swallows. It was awful tasting and thicker than anything she’d ever drunk before. Clarke was pretty sure if she hadn’t had so much practice drinking foul tasting grounder potions that she’d have thrown up the minute it touched her tongue.

Anya nodded her approval and took the cup vanishing back into the other cavern, leaving Clarke alone again. She reached out and traced the symbols with a fingertip, they were so beautiful. Not like the art she created, there was nothing life-like about these. But they were strong and bold. Unavoidable. The infinity and triskell were her favorite. They were both strong, but each of them curved into something that seemed delicate before returning to the thicker lines that showed it’s true strength.

She jumped, where was that noise coming from? Clarke twisted, finding Anya settled into a corner, beating on a small hand drum, the rhythm pulsing and hypnotizing, filling her brain until her heartbeat seemed to fall in line with it. She tipped over, the blur of motion oddly slow as she watched the world around her tilt and shift. Clarke’s eyes locked on Anya, her hands still beating out the rhythm that pounded in Clarke’s ears, she also thought she saw her mouth moving, but the only sound in her ears was the drum beat.

Clarke lay on her side, her body slumped in the position it had landed in and watched as her vision began to run in colors, streaming into ribbons of distorted shapes. Clarke blinked a few times, and between one blink and the next everything in front of her changed.

She pushed herself up, attention catching for a moment on how easily her body moved. It hadn’t felt this capable, this strong and fluid..ever. She pushed onto her feet, slightly surprised at the energy of the movement, but it didn’t unbalance her. She spun around in a circle, trying to keep it slow but failing. Still, it was enough to take in her new surroundings.

Trees, massive and thick, unlike anything she had ever seen on the ground or even in movies, rose around her creating a wall and ceiling so thick that it seemed no less solid than rock walls. There was a fire crackling in the center of the circle, it was large but there was no heat. No crackling embers flying around. But it still provided a sharp cast of light, throwing a figure crouched beside the flame into sharp relief.

Clarke approached, oddly enough she felt no fear or apprehension, only pure curiosity.

As she approached the figure rose, showing off a hooded cloak that she had seen in her dreams before. They were still extremely tall, taller even than any grounder she’d run across, and they were giants compared to the Arkers. Clarke waited as they pulled back the hood showing a face that was humanoid, but still oddly featureless. The edges of their shape softened by a constant wavering, like looking at something far away through a thick haze of smoke.

They stood and considered each other, Clarke didn’t know what this figure thought of her, but she was oddly intrigued, fascinated by the constant movement of their shape. Clarke blinked and noticed that there was no longer a robe covering their frame. 

Now that the robe was gone she could see long limbs, really long limbs, but the clothes were the most jarring part of their figure, probably because they were so normal. Leather pants, a rough linen shirt, straps of leather and metal wrapping around thighs and forearms- each containing a weapon.

“ _ Come. Sit.” _ Clarke was startled by the deep, breathy voice that she didn’t seem to be hearing with her ears, but inside her head.

Clarke settled by the fire, her limbs dropping into a perfectly comfortable position on the first try. The figure beside her settled into position, mirroring her pose. Clarke waited, enjoying the silence and stillness of this place. It was odd that she felt so..peaceful. She hadn’t felt so much peace since before her father’s death.

_ “ _ What am I doing here?” Clarke could only take the silence for so long, especially when she had so many questions that no one could answer. “Why me?”

The figure continue to wait.

“I mean, look at me. I’m no one. I never have been,” Clarke thought back to a few years ago, “I was never meant to be anyone either.” Clarke thought about her parents. Both of them had been top of their classes, both of them had known what they wanted to do with their lives, and they had pursued it, despite the challenges of family being in completely different fields. Abby’s parents worked in Aggro in the greenhouses, Jake’s had both been teachers. They had found their interests and gone after them, quickly becoming the best in their fields until they had been the heads of their departments.

Clarke looked at the figure feeling their quiet, accepting attention and it just started to spill out of her, “I never wanted to be a doctor. I just wanted to draw. That’s all I really like to do, all I’m really good at. But that’s not how life works on the Ark. If you aren’t useful then you’re a waste of resources and out the airlock. I’m terrible with math, and every time I shadowed my Dad in engineering I’d end up breaking something.”

“I tried other things. Requisitions was fine, I’d have never made it as a guard or officer, my parents wouldn’t hear of me becoming a teacher. Orbital Awareness would have been great, but they barely had anyone working there, mostly my Dad’s department absorbed them. So my only real option was Medical.”

Clarke picked up a stick that she hadn’t noticed, it seemed to be the only one on the ground and began to draw shapes and figures on the ground, “I’m not stupid, it wasn’t hard to do all of the memorization. Art helped me visualize the internal portions of the body. It was just...not what I wanted to do.”

Clarke felt tears start to drip down her cheeks and chin, trickling down her throat. “Why is it that the one thing I am good at, is death?”

_ “Were your choices about bringing death to those around you?” _

Clarke shook her head, “No. I didn’t want anyone around me to die. I wanted all of us to live, to just..stop fighting each other.”

_ “Then you are not good at death. Those who are good at death bring it to everyone around them, with no exceptions. Death is their goal” _

“Really? Then why am I talking to the Commander of Death? Isn’t that who you are?” Apparently, there was still some snark and attitude inside of her.

Wanheda’s face twisted into a smile that was more comforting than anything she had expected,  _ “I have many names. Some are more accurate to who I am than others.” _

Clarke tilted her head in confusion, “Then who are you?”

The smile grew softer and slightly bigger,  _ “I am a Creator.” _

“A creator..”

_ “I created souls.” _

“....Umm….I’m not really sure what that means.”

_ “No, the Ark was not much concerned with the soul.” _ Wanheda waved her hand over the fire, drawing Clarke’s eyes to it and immersing her into the image shown. Person after person, each with the same look, the same behaviors. Everything was dull and monotonous.  _ “A soul is what makes you..you. It is what allows you to love a person or dislike one that you have just met. It lets you see beauty and draw it. It is what lets you, as a human, create.” _

“I..I don’t know that I understand that, either.”

Wanheda nodded, swiping her hand back over the fire so that the image disappeared.  _ “That is alright. You do not need to understand the nature of the soul with your mind, and the Ark has not taught you to listen to your soul.” _

“Listen to my..soul?”

_ “You know how to listen to your soul,”  _ Wanheda reassured her,  _ “But when you allow your mind to question too much, your soul will fall silent. The soul cannot be tamed.” _

“I-Thi-ugh.” Clarke stuttered, trying to communicate, but not even sure what her own thoughts really were, they were so scrambled.

Wanheda offered another gentle smile,  _ “It is alright. It is not something you need to know or understand right now. It will come in time.” _

“Then what do I need to know right now?”

_ “My children often share some of my abilities.”  _ Wanheda’s eyes roamed Clarke’s face.

“Trapping the spirits?” Clarke offered, it had been a constant echo in her mind since last night.

Wanheda nodded,  _ “Your emotions have reached out to those you have hurt and held them to you. Keeping them from moving on. _ ”

“I didn’t mean to,” Clarke whispered, shame snaking through her.

_ “I know.” _ A soft breeze brushed across her skin, like a gentle hug,  _ “But you cannot let it continue. You must release them from the hold you have on them, or they will never find rest. Neither will you.” _

_ “Are you ready?” _

Clarke didn’t know if she was, what she even needed to be ready for but before she could ask that the world around her shifted, bringing her to the field, crowded as it usually was. The difference this time was the silence, this time there were no angry murmurs, no thuds as fists and feet struck her body, no chants for freedom.

_ “Find the ones you can let go,” _ Wanheda instructed her, waving towards the crowd.

“I don’t know which ones I can let go of.”

_ “Close your eyes.” _ Wanheda instructed,  _ “Listen to your soul.” _

Clarke stood for what felt like forever trying to listen. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t seem to do it, to figure out what it was that Wanheda was trying to tell her.

“Hey kiddo,” Clarke’s eyes flew open not seeing her new surroundings, she knew that voice.

“Dad?” Clarke launched herself forward, not bothering to check if this was real. If he was real.

Arms wrapped around her, holding her in just the right way so that it told her she was safe. She was home and everything would be alright. Clarke held on tight refusing to let go, clutching even harder when the pressure on her own back lessened.

“Clarke,” She pulled back at that, it had been so long since he’d said her name she might have forgotten exactly what it sounded like. But he looked exactly the same as he did in her memories. Not the last memory she had of him, but the morning before when he’d been pushing her along to get to class, the week before when they joined the Jaha’s to watch an old soccer match. He looked exactly the same.

“Dad.” She hugged him again, this one quicker but still just as valuable. “What are you doing here?”

Jake Griffin stepped back a little and rubbed up and down her arms, “You called me here Princess.”

Clarke choked on a sob, it had been so long since she’d heard that nickname the way it was meant to be said. Finn had always thought he’d been the first one to call her princess, it was why it had always been such a struggle to hear it.

“I’m sorry-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to do any of this.” Clarke sobbed, barely able to see through her tears.

“It’s okay,” He pulled her back in for another hug, “It’s okay.”

“I’m supposed to know how to let you go, to let you all go, but I don’t. I don’t know how.” Clarke’s words were muffled in the ratty and torn material of the sweater her Dad loved. “And-And I don’t  _ want _ to let you go. Not again, you’re here.” 

Jake just held onto his daughter, letting her cry all her tears while he swayed, back and forth, rocking her to the rhythm of his aimless humming. He didn’t stop until the hiccups had come to a stop and Clarke had sagged into him more, her body unable to hold her up anymore. He coaxed her along, easing her down into the cushions of the small loveseat that had graced the main room of their apartment on the Ark.

“Would you really want to keep me here, Princess?” 

“Of course I would.” The words were rough coming from her abused throat.

“Clarke.” Jake scolded, but Clarke just shook her head, not getting it. “Would you really be happy to be here with me in this place?”

“Of course Dad, I miss you so much.”

“Is it my presence that is important? Or who I am?”

Clarke huffed, maybe this was her punishment for asking Anya all of those real/not real questions. “I don’t understand.”

“The person I am doesn’t just sit around all day. I’ve never been that kind of person. I’m not happy to sit in one place and I hate it when I don’t have something to do. Do you remember that?”

Of course she did. Her Dad was always doing something; working from home, mind puzzles, engineering problems, reading or even drawing. He was always occupied doing something, his hands were always busy.

“I can’t be that person here. There are no problems to solve. No systems to improve. There is no work for me to do.” He gave her a soft smile, “It wouldn’t really be me here, it would only be a limited part of me. If I were still alive and forced into an environment like this, I would go crazy or die.”

That was absolutely true. He had gotten sick once after a malfunction in Mecha had dropped the temperatures to below freezing for a few hours. For the next two weeks while Abby had forced him to stay in bed he had been grumpy and short-tempered. Snapping at everyone and everything. It had been a shock to Clarke who had only ever dealt with the happy, laughing version of her Dad. Even when he’d been yelling, he hadn’t been as mean as he had been that week.

“I just want you back,” Clarke said, already accepting that even in this world it wasn’t going to happen.

“I know Princess, but you’ve gotta let me go.”

“I don’t know how,” Clarke stated again.

Jake nodded, “Yes you do. But before I go, I need you to know that it wasn’t your fault. I was never upset that you didn’t find a way to share that message with everyone else. I also need you to know that I understand why your mother turned me in. Maybe better than she does, and when you told me that you would try to get that message out, I got to know a moment of her fear. None of it was your fault.”

Clarke had thought that she was out of tears, but apparently, she had enough to start crying again. When she thought Wells had been the one who turned her Father in she had been certain that his death was her fault. But when she had learned that it had been her Mother that had done it, she couldn’t shake the guilt she felt, even though she fully blamed Abby for the choice that she made.

Hearing her Dad tell her this..it gave her peace that she hadn’t even known she’d needed. She reached forward and gave him another hug, holding tight to this man who had been the best Dad she could have asked for. She hugged him and felt in that moment all of the hugs they’d shared before, the jokes they’d laughed at, the conversations they had, the arguments they fought. For a brief moment, she could see every smile, every dance, every shared minute of happiness between them.

She opened her eyes and he was gone.

Clarke let her head hang. She was surprised that she didn’t feel more grief, her Dad had just been here, and now he was gone again. But it didn’t feel like he had just died all over again. It felt..like a meeting that was never meant to happen, but that had given them both a chance to say what they hadn’t been able to before.

Clarke lifted her head as Wanheda came up beside, a silent presence beside her. Supporting her. She began to walk forward and between one step and the next the ground underneath her changed from cold metal to damp earth, the air shifted from stale and recycled to sharp and fresh. With every step forward the field filled in more of her surroundings until she stood in the center of it, empty and clear save for the stubble left after harvest.

Clarke closed her eyes for a minute, still not sure what she was doing, but feeling a bit more confident in just trusting her instincts. She opened her eyes to see it packed with people. All of them standing silent and still, waiting.

She turned her head and waited, not knowing what she waited for yet she wasn’t surprised to see Tristan push his way forward coming to stop right in front of her. She continued to wait, simply looking at the tall warrior as movement rippled throughout the throng, waiting until it settled.

“We drew blood first,” Clarke stated, an acknowledgment she hadn’t made before now, including to herself. “We drew blood first. We did so unknowingly, we did so as little more than children who could not know the results of their actions, but we started the war between our people.”

It was the truth, before Raven came down and they set off the rockets, Clarke had been speaking with Anya about a potential peace. Even with the disastrous bridge meeting, there had been a possibility that peace could have been salvaged. But when those rockets had launched and landed in a village the terms had changed.

It had been confusing for the teens. They had gone from being scared of the unknown and afraid of being watched to being hunted overnight. They had gone from uneasy peace to war. It had seemed sudden and unexpected and it definitely fed the belief that the grounders were savages, but the truth was it was their fault. They started it all.

“You did not want to hear that we did not intend for the village to be harmed, there had been too much lost for that. So you took your place at the table and began to move the pieces. You did not intend to sacrifice yourself or your men that day, but you made the choice to take that risk. You died as a result of war. A war we both fought in, to protect ourselves and our loved ones. Your deaths are not my fault, but they are my responsibility. Your bodies have been burned, your souls are released.”

“ _ Yu gonplei ste odon.” _

The words echoed around the field, suddenly much emptier than it had been. Clarke looked around, there were now more faces that she recognized, though there were still formless faces. Faces that she didn’t know.

“Do you know anything about the village that burned?” Clarke has wanted to know more about the village since she first heard that the flares had destroyed it, but asking had never seemed like a good idea.

Wanheda hummed, deep and low, and stepped aside, showing a small faceless figure. Clarke glanced at Wanheda, a silent question. Wanheda nodded back to the figure, drawing Clarke’s full attention back to them as they changed from a small, shapeless, faceless person, to a child. 

The child stepped forward, “What do you want to know?”

“Did you like it there?”

“Of course I did, it was my home.”

“Were you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Do you hate me for killing you?”

The child cocked his head, “My family is here with me and so are my friends. My life there wasn’t my only life, so..I don’t really care that you killed me.”

“How could you not care?”

“Your people came from the sky, yes?” Clarke nodded her head in answer. “Would you be upset to be made to live on the ground with your people who were there? Or would it be harder to stay behind without them?”

“Everyone I know, everyone I care about is here. Some of my people are sad to have left others behind, but anger over death is for the living, not the dead.” The boy glanced behind him as people began to flank him. Their faces had also been featureless, but as Clarke looked at each of them their faces morphed to show what they looked like they had before death. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did.

“The only anger we have is at being kept from our next life.”

Clarke looked down in shame, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for keeping you from your next life.” Once the words started she couldn’t stop them, “I’m sorry that those flares destroyed your village. I would never have encouraged them to be set off if I had know..or even thought of what could happen. I’m sorry that I didn’t think of where the flares would go after they had been sent off. I’m sorry that the flares didn’t even end up serving their purpose, that your deaths served no purpose.” Clarke took a deep breath, trying to calm the sobs that built up inside of her.

“Child,” An old woman stepped forward, crippled and bent with age, “You cannot change what has been done. Learn from this, let it guide you into being better, but know that no matter how much you may wish it was different, it cannot be.”

Clarke nodded, Anya had said something similar of Lexa once. That she had made a decision and she would live with the consequences of them. Maybe that meant that once she made a decision she simply..accepted it. Good or bad, right or wrong, the decision was made and couldn’t be undone.

“Let us go. We have nothing more to offer you, there is nothing more we can give you to help you accept what has happened.” 

“I-I can’t.” Clarke shook her head, the tears falling faster again.

“Then you choose to punish us.” For the first time since she started speaking, the old woman’s tone was sharp and hard.

Everything in Clarke clenched. They were right. The dreams had been so full of pain and rage. Those weren’t things you could share with others without feeling them yourself. She had done all she could, now she had to let it go, let them go on to the next life.

Too bad that was easier said than done, she looked at the little boy who had first approached her. Thinking of what his life on the ground had been, thinking of what it could have been. The tears slowed, a smile lifting the edges of her mouth. He would have picked something to do with his life, he would have trained as hard as he could and become successful, maybe a farmer she thought noting the dirt under his nails. He would have met someone and fallen madly in love, doing stupid things in the name of making them notice him. They would have joined, maybe brought children into their home. He would have grown old with his lover at his side, they would finish out their life together. A life full of difficulties and struggles, but with more joy than hardship. More laughter than war.

The boy offered a bright smile, lighting up his whole face as though he also saw her vision of his future and was excited about it before he began to fade away. Somehow, even after he disappeared from in front of her, that smile lingered in the air in front of her. It was bright and happy, full of hope.

The others in the group began to vanish as well, far more slowly than it had happened with the first group. It seemed that each person needed to be seen, a tidbit of their lives, past or future acknowledged by Clarke before they would fade into their next life. 

When the last was gone Clarke sagged forward, her body suddenly losing the strength and lightness that it had possessed since she’d opened her eyes in this realm. Wanheda came forward and rested a hand on her back, “ _ You must return. It has been too long.” _

Clarke struggled to lift her head, souls from TonDC, the Dropship, and the Mountain were still gathered around her, “What about them? They need to be let go too.”

_ “You are not ready to let them go yet. And you have been here too long. You will have more peace now, and there is still work to be done. But you have done enough for now. Go. Rest.” _ Wanheda’s voice was firm, and the command was apparently enough to have the world melding and blending, running into colors that were too bright, then too ugly as she returned.

 

Clarke groaned, her head pounded with every pulse of her heart, her body ached like it had when she was sick. Everything hurt, even her eyelashes.

“Slowly, slowly.” Anya helped her sit up, supporting most of her weight and shifting around Clarke, making herself into a chair of sorts for Clarke. She lifted a cup and brought it to Clarke’s lips, trickling the cold water into her mouth, little by little. It was a good thing too because Clarke couldn’t make her body respond.

“What. Happened.” Her voice sounded foreign, it was so gravely.

“You’ve been in the spirit realm.” Anya encouraged her to drink more water.

“How long?”

“A week.”

Clarke wanted to react, she was pretty sure that if her body had been able to move she would have jumped up and began to pace around in shock. “It didn’t seem like that long.”

“Time is changeable.”

Clarke grunted, what did that even mean? 

“Did you learn anything?”

“Yes,” Clarke could feel herself fading, even though she’d apparently been out of it for a week she was exhausted, “Wanheda helped me let them go.”

“Good. You will have more peace.”

“I wanna sleep now.” Clarke barely registered the words slurring as she said them.

“Good, I’ll have food ready when you wake.”

“Hmmmm,” Clarke hummed letting Anya do all the work of laying her back down on the furs underneath her body, “Then we can talk about you drugging me.”

“Go to sleep,” The tone was harsh, but the hand running through her hair was gentle and soothing. Clarke let her body sink into sleep, enjoying the first nightmare free night’s sleep in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally a filler chapter, but I gotta.

“Clarke. Clarke, you need to wake up.”

Clarke groaned at the irritating voice breaking through sleep, slapping at the hand on her shoulder that was shaking her. “No, go away.”

“Come on, Clarke. You have to wake up.” 

Clarke groaned even more, the hand had stopped shaking her but now it was forcing her body into an upright position holding her there and not letting her go. She slapped again at the hand, “No. Sleep.”

“No.” The voice was sharp and hard this time, “Open your eyes,” The last bit was softer, almost pleading. “You have to wake up.”

Clarke grumbled but started to support her own weight so she was staying upright as the hand moved away. She still didn’t open her eyes though, she was so tired.

Clarke jerked back startled as something bumped into her lips, sloshing cool liquid on her chin and chest as she moved. She brought a hand up to steady the cup, taking a sip before she realized just how thirsty she really was and guzzled the entire cup.

“Another.” Anya brought the refilled cup back to her lips, and Clarke drained that one too, finally opening her eyes which made Anya sag a bit in relief.

“I’m so tired,” Clarke complained, setting the cup down and accepting the bowl that Anya shoved into her hands, she stared down at the watery stew and wrinkled her nose. It didn’t look very good.

“Eat. All of it.”  Anya insisted, filling the cup with water again.

Clarke sighed and began to slurp at the soup, Anya hadn’t offered her a spoon and winced at the herby taste. “You aren’t trying to drug me again are you?”

“Yes.” Anya rolled her eyes when Clarke stopped drinking and eyed her, “The herbs will help you regain the energy you’ve lost.”

“Or you could just let me sleep some more, it’s not like missing a few meals will hurt me any,” Clarke grumbled.

“You’ve slept for 2 days, you needed water. And missing more meals would be more harmful than you realize, you lost weight while you were in the Spirit Realm.” 

Clarke’s eyebrows drew down in confusion, “What?”

Anya sighed, “I didn’t expect you to stay there as long as you did, or I would have prepared you better, but being in the Spirit Realm is taxing. It takes a great deal of energy and strength to maintain your presence there, and since you didn’t have the training needed to pull energy from somewhere else, you pulled energy from your body, taking more than your body could afford after the last few months.”

Clarke looked down at her hands, they were far thinner than they had ever been, bony and sharp from the lack of fat and even muscle around them. “Is that why I slept so long?”

“Yes, sleeping a lot is normal after traveling to the Spirit Realm. Eton said that while the body rests during travel that the mind doesn’t get the chance. Sleep is an important part of returning, but it is unsafe to need so much sleep after travel, if I was not able to wake you, you would have died.”

“Is it always that dangerous? And why haven’t I had problems with it if I’ve been traveling to the Spirit Realm every night during my dreams?”

“Being there for a few hours is different from being there for several days. You said that you let them go?”

Clarke nodded, setting the empty bowl aside, “Some, but not all of them.”

“I’m sure that took a lot of effort. Effort requires energy.”

“So next time I go there I’m going to risk dying? That’s great.” Clarke couldn’t help the sarcasm.

“Physical strength and training help a great deal, as does being healthy in the first place. You are still recovering from your illness.”

Clarke tilted her head in acknowledgment, she still woke up most mornings with a wheezing rattling cough, her ribs still ached, and even though the cuts scattered across her body were healing well, they still stretched and pulled every time she moved just a little too fast.

“Drink this and then rest. I will wake you in a few hours so you can eat.” Anya said in response to a jaw-cracking yawn that Clarke hadn’t been able to prevent.

Clarke nodded and lay back down letting sleep take her.

  
  
  


“Any dreams?” Anya was watching carefully as Clarke ate, making sure she ate enough despite her complaints of not being hungry.

“No. Not that I remember.” Clarke took another bite, grimacing at how heavy it felt in her stomach. “Are you sure I can’t have oats instead?” The oats were about the only thing that sounded edible at the moment.

“No, you need the fat and protein. If you don’t stop complaining I will make you eat what Eton made me eat when I needed to recover.”

“It might be better than this.”

“He cut the fat off an animal, melted it down and then poured it down my throat.” Anya smirked as Clarke gagged at the thought, “It was worse when he added herbs to it, the fat made the taste stick to my tongue for weeks.” Her smirk faded at the taste memory that appeared on her own tongue, joining Clarke in the gagging.

“Yeah, I’ll stick with this, thanks.” She took a slightly more enthusiastic bite, it wasn’t any better, but at least it wasn’t the worst option.

“We’ll leave in the morning, I don’t think there’s anything more for us here.” 

“What? I’m not ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“I still have more to do, there are more souls to release.”

“And you think you need to be here to do it?”

“I need to learn.” Clarke huffed at Anya’s confused look, “Wanheda said that there was more work to be done, but I’m not ready to do it yet.”

“And you think you need to be here to prepare?”

“I-” Clarke paused, “I don’t even know how to prepare.”

“I told you that physical training can help with the strain. There are also rituals that can be done to help.”

“Rituals?” That sounded like something out of a hokey witchcraft show.

“Hmmm,” Anya hummed, “Rituals are a part of joining with Wanheda. Becoming her vessel.”

“I just want the dreams to stop. I want to release the souls hanging around me and then I want to go on with my life, not become Wanheda.”

“You don’t become Wanheda, not really. You simply..” Anya trailed off, there really wasn’t anything simple about it. “Become able to borrow some of Wanheda’s skills.”

“Why would I want to do that?” There was enough snark in that question to rival the snottiest teenager at the dropship.

“That’s a question for Wanheda. There’s usually a reason.”

“Great. Let me just go hang out in the Spirit Realm after it almost killed me so I can ask.”

“Just don’t stay as long.” Anya shrugged a shoulder, “And let me know what Wanheda says.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and handed the now empty bowl over, time to go back to sleep.

  
  
  


Clarke wobbled, taking slow shuffling steps. They were packed and ready to return to the cabin, but they’d only leave once she managed to make it to the courtyard. It had been really close to the front room of the cave when they arrived, but she was sure that the distance had grown since then. It didn’t help that Anya was sitting on the ground leaning against a rock and slicing a piece of fruit while she watched with obvious enjoyment as Clarke tripped, stumbled, and tottered towards the horse.

“You could come help, you know.” Clarke gripped after she almost landed on her face. She was still so tired, and her limbs felt like they were attached to boulders.

“Nah, this is far more entertaining.” Anya took another bite.

Clarke glared at the other woman, “Don’t complain to me when we don’t make it back before it gets dark.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“On complaining? Or making it back before dark?”

“Both.”

Clarke didn’t believe that Anya wouldn’t bitch at her at some point tonight when they were setting up camp. She sighed and sagged as she finally reached the horse, leaning against his side to rest and let the shakiness settle. She glanced back at Anya who was still reclined against the rock face.

“Are we actually leaving? Or did you just want to watch me fall?”

Anya heaved a sigh, making it sound like she was the most put upon person on earth and jumped up, wiping her blade on her pant leg before tucking it back into its sheath. She ambled over and threw Clarke up in the saddle, laughing when Clarke almost fell over on the other side.

“Laugh it up, chucklehead.”

“What is a chucklehead?” Anya glowered, aware that she’d just been insulted.

Clarke smirked and straightened up as much as she could, “You.”

Anya glared, clicking the horse into motion and leading him out of the courtyard and toward the entrance.

  
  


“You. Are. Evil.” Clarke stifled a whimper as she tried to force her body into a stretch, even just sitting pulled at the muscles in her thighs and back. Apparently, Anya had decided to take her revenge by introducing Clarke to galloping. Once they had gotten to the bottom of the steep mountain trail she had climbed onto the back of the horse and kicked him into high gear.

Anya grinned, handing over a bunch of dried meat for their evening meal, “I do try.”

Clarke groaned, reaching forward, “I didn’t even know I had muscles on the outside of my thighs.”

“Most normal people do.”

“Are you trying to imply that I’m not normal?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying.”

“You are such a delight.”

“I know.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, tearing into the meat. “Is this different?”

“It’s incredibly boring watching you sleep for a week.” Anya offered.

“I wish I had actually been asleep for a week, I’m still so tired.”

Anya's eyebrows furrowed in concern, “Did you travel last night?”

“To the Spirit Realm? No.” Clarke sighed in frustration, “I had wanted to talk to Wanheda again, but I didn’t dream.”

“That’s probably a good thing if you’re still tired.”

“I just want answers.”

“They’ll come in time.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Anya nodded as though the thanks were actually meant and laid back, closing her eyes to sleep, “Anytime.”

Clarke rolled her eyes again, laying down on her side of the banked fire, maybe tonight she would get answers.

  
  


“ _ Gyon op nodotaim, _ not nod-o-tim.” Anya corrected.

_ “Gyon op nodotaim _ ,” Clarke tried again and smiled when she felt the nod, “ _ Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” _

_ “Sha, os.” _

Clarke paused, translating the approval. Ash had been teaching her a bit of Trigedasleng and she had asked Anya to tell her the name of a few things during the long and boring ride. Helped that it kept her mind off her numb ass. They had started to move past individual words into sentences, phrases that Anya said were important to grounder culture.

“How do I ask to stop and use a bush?”

_ “Hod op, ai gaf breikwoda.” _ Anya told her, “But we’re almost there, just through the trees.”

Clarke looked ahead and saw the trees were starting to thin out. She squinted trying to see if anything looked familiar, but it really didn’t.

“Are we at the cabin already?”

“You Skaikru are hopeless in the trees. No, we aren’t at the cabin. I need to return the horse.”

“Oh.”

The trees thinned out opening onto the edge of a field that lay bare. Beyond the empty field, Clarke could see a cabin in the distance, but the pen that was slightly closer was what caught her eye. As they moved closer, her eyes widened at all of the horses. So many different colors and sizes, and they were just running around chasing each other like little kids playing in a common room.

The horse underneath them sped up, eager to get back home and Anya let the reins slide through her hands. She slid off the saddle and helped Clarke off as well, only offering a teasing grin when it was more of a fall than a purposeful dismount, and led them up to the edge of the cabin that looked like a bigger version of Anya's.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Anya walked up to the porch, opening the door and disappearing inside without so much as a knock. 

Clarke arched an eyebrow before turning back to pet the horse. She should probably unstrap the saddle, but her legs were still ridiculously unsteady and the extra weight would probably land her flat on her back. Anya didn’t need another reason to laugh at her today.

“Clarke! Come meet Ad!” 

“Why do you always have to be so loud. If you wake the baby I’m going to kill you.”

“You wish you could. I’d just kill you and then cuddle her til Mara get’s back.”

“She’s been teething, why do you think Mara left her here instead of taking her with her to market day?” Anya grimaced. “Now, who’s your friend?” The man standing next to Anya waggled his eyebrows and gave a sly grin.

“Ew, no.”

“Hey! I’m a catch.” Clarke defended herself, enjoying the banter.

“Yes. You smell like a fish.”

“I do not.”

“You’re right, it was a pauna.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, she really had smelled like a pauna when Anya had dumped her in that stream. She hobbled up the steps, “I’m Clarke.”

“Addex, but everyone calls me Ad.” He greeted.

 


	19. Chapter 19

“I specifically told you to make sure you brought the damn cat back.”

“I don’t remember you saying any such thing.”

“Really? Because I’m certain Mara and the kids would back me up on that.”

“I don’t get why you sent the cat with me in the first place, I told you I was going up to Eton’s caves, you knew I’d be able to work with the horse.”

“You didn’t take the cat with you? Anya!”

“What? He wasn’t going to be alone.”

“Really? You didn’t ignore him at all? You didn’t leave him alone in a pen while you took care of other stuff?”

“Well yeah, but he’s a horse, he was fine.”

“I’m sure he was BUT NOW HE’S GOING TO BE A TEMPERAMENTAL BASTARD FOR WEEKS! AND ITS YOUR FUCKING FAULT!”

“Well you should have told me that.”

“I should have! I DID!”

“Well, obviously not.”

Ad threw up his hands and looked to Clarke who was sitting on the floor by the fire listening to their argument, “Don’t ever trust a sister with anything, they’ll always make it your fault somehow.”

Clarke smiled, “If I ever have a sister I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No sister? You are fortunate.” He grunted as Anya slugged him in the arm.

“Eh, I always wanted a sibling. Didn’t care if it was a brother or sister.” Clarke looked away at the sudden sad look on Ad’s face, it was obvious that not having siblings was an awful thing to him.

“Well, you’ve got us now.”

“Oh great, don’t I have enough to take care of without you adopting more people into the family?” Anya complained, but it was soft enough that Clarke didn’t think she actually meant it.

“Eh, after the first five it doesn’t really change much to add another.”

“True.”

“How many of you are there?” Five? Clarke had only ever thought about having one sibling, not four.

“Nine living. There’s Anya, Adam and I, Ana, Aeris, Ash, Anton, Alva, Aspen, and Avery.”

“You’re parents really liked A names didn’t they?”

Anya arched an eyebrow, “Are you really going to make fun of our names?”

“No.” Clarke looked away.

“Stop glaring at the poor girl, why don’t you go find us some dinner.” Ad came to her rescue.

“It’s your house, you should provide dinner.”

“I would have if I’d known I was going to be having guests. Since you were supposed to be back three days ago, you can provide dinner.”

Anya huffed but headed out the door. Clarke wasn’t sure what her plan was to provide food, she knew they were almost out of jerky and it would be a sparse meal if that’s what she was planning. Of course, she could be planning to hunt for something, though she hadn’t taken a bow with her and that was what she normally did when she left to hunt from the cabin.

With Anya gone, Ad settled beside Clarke on the floor, grunting a bit as he lowered himself.

“I’ve gotten spoiled. I rarely ever sit on the floor anymore,” He explained at Clarke’s questioning look.

Clarke hummed and looked back to the fire, the heat was intense and making her drowsy.

“You look like my kids do when they’re about to fall asleep on the floor.” Ad busted out laughing, “And that’s the same look they give me when I tell them that and they’re waiting on a story!”

Clarke smiled, “What kind of stories do you tell them?”

“A few about our history, our beliefs, but mostly I tell them stories about their Aunt Anya. She’s the only warrior in our family, and they just don’t think it’s as interesting to learn about farmers, tailors, and blacksmiths.”

“I can imagine not.”

“What kind of stories were you told as a child?”

“Oh, we didn’t really get stories. As soon as we learned to talk we started learning letters and numbers.” Clarke shrugged, “Some parents may have told their kids stories, but mine were always really busy. Dad did what he could, but there was never enough time for some of that stuff.”

Ad carefully didn’t look at Clarke, if she was a friend of Anya’s she likely wouldn’t take well to the pity that was written across his face. Truthfully, no adult wanted to be pitied for the way they grew up, it was nothing they could affect and couldn’t change now.

“Well then, would you like to hear a story?”

Clarke liked that idea and nodded.

“What kind of story would you like to hear?”

Clarke shrugged and shook her head, “Tell me the story you loved to hear the most as a kid.”

“Ok..You’ll have to give me a minute, it’s been a while since I had to tell a story in Gonasleng.”

“I’m impressed that you speak Gonasleng as well as you do. I thought it was a language reserved for warriors.”

“That’s true, but because of how close we live to the Mountain, many Trikru speak at least some Gonasleng. The further from the Mountain you go, the fewer people will speak it. And it meant Anya couldn’t tease us without us knowing if we spoke it as well.”

“Makes sense.”

“So..At the beginning of time, before the world was, there were four beings who existed; Intelligences who didn’t know how they came to be. They drifted through the cosmos until they found each other. When they found each other they decided that they no longer wished to drift. They wanted a place to call home. Each had vast knowledge at their disposal, but each was particularly skilled in a different area. They spent time debating what their home should look like, what it should hold, but the first two became impatient and decided to form a home without waiting for the other two. Together they used their particular skills and created the earth as we see it now. Earth and Water. They created them and then decorated them with trees, plants, colors, and sounds. When they were done they returned to the other two and invited them to join them in their new home.”

“What they hadn’t known, Earth and Water, was how much energy it would take from them. They were tired, exhausted by the work they had done. And the other two, while they added their own touch, they were displeased at how empty their home felt. Earth and Water were barely able to stay awake to hear the complaints and so Earth and Water walked away, each settling into their preferred habitat to rest.”

“Their creation took so much energy, that even still they sleep, resting in the depths of the oceans and the bowels of the earth. When they are awakened they stretch, giving us floods and earth-shakes, but then because they are so tired, they simply roll over and return to sleep. It is thought that one day they may wake fully, but until then they rest, and never know of our creation.”

“What about the other two?”

“That is a different story.” Ad smiled as Clarke huffed and turned to see Anya returning with a  couple of rabbits strung together. He frowned, “Those had better not be from my traps.”

“You didn’t really think I was going to hunt.”

Ad sighed, “Tad is supposed to empty them, now you’ve done his chores for him.”

“I reset them, so just don’t tell him and send him out to check them anyway.” Anya rolled her eyes, “You’d think you’re new at this whole parenting thing.”

“He is my oldest, so yeah I am.”

“Oh please, we practically raised everyone else.”

“No, you practically raised us. You weren’t willing to let anyone else help.”

“Anya? A control freak? Never.” Clarke muttered under her breath, apparently just a little too loud since Anya glared at her.

“Whatever. I got it, you cook it.” Anya chucked the rabbits at Ad’s head, laughing when they caught him on the head. “I’m going to get cleaned up, you too Princess.”

  


Clarke sank back in front of the fireplace, this was officially the best spot in the entire house, and sighed as the heat reached her. Anya had led her down to a stream that ran through one of the pens and they’d washed up in it. Clarke was sure that it would be great in the middle of summer when it was hot out, but in the middle of winter there had been a layer of ice on the edges. She shivered again, glad that her teeth had stopped chattering somewhere between eating the roasted rabbit and vegetables that Ad had cooked up for them.

“What was your favorite story as a child, Anya?” Clarke asked as the woman sat beside her on the floor, also enjoying the heat.

“What?”

“I was telling Clarke my favorite story earlier.” Ad joined them, this time settling down in a wooden armchair that looked pretty comfortable, but was too far away from the fire.

“The creators?” Anya glanced between them.

Ad hummed, “I always loved that story, the kids not so much. They like stories involving their warrior Auntie.”

Clarke was sure that was a blush and not from the heat of the fire.

“He only told me about the first two though,” Clarke didn’t tease..yet.

“Just _Graun_ and _Woda_?”

“ _Fleim_ and _Wan_ were always your favorite part of the story.” Ad said, obviously teasing her, but Clarke wasn’t sure how.

Anya rolled her eyes, “Eton made me tell the story so many times, I couldn’t stand it.” She informed Clarke.

“So what is the second part of the story?”

Anya hesitated, “I’m no-

“Oh come one Anya, you haven’t had to recite it for years, I’m sure. You can manage telling it again.” Ad interrupted her.

Anya looked between the two and sighed as Clarke smiled at the goading. “Alright then. You stopped..”

“When Earth and Water rested.”

 Anya took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, “When Earth and Water fell asleep, both tucked away in their element, the other two, Flame and Wind decided to explore the home they were given. They enjoyed it immensely, it was absolutely beautiful, but it was also very quiet. Very lonely. Together they decided to create animals, creatures that would live and thrive in the home they had created but it wasn’t enough. The animals they created had a level of intelligence, but they weren’t the same. The animals appreciated the environment for all that it could provide them, not for the beauty around them.”

“Flame and Wind looked at the animals and decided that something was missing, so they decided to start again, but this time, instead of working separately, they would work together.”

“It was a great deal more complicated, not forming the body- that was simple, but the rest was so incredibly complicated. Eventually, they finished and breathed life into their creation, but it was lacking again, unable to think beyond surviving.”

Anya paused for a long moment, “Flame suggested that they give up for a while, but Wind wanted to try just one more time. This time, when Flame breathed life into the body, Wind breathed into the soul; allowing a small portion of essence to carry with the breath.”

“This time, they had created a person. They did it again, just once more, and when they were done they were faced with the first man and woman. People who were  capable of thinking for themselves, who would disagree with Flame and Wind and with each other, but most importantly, they were able to see beauty and create it themselves.”

“Flame and Wind lived with humans for a long time after that, enjoying discussions, ideas and creations of the people, but for Wind, it began to be too much. Because Wind had breathed a part of their essence into the souls of the first two, Wind had a connection to every human soul in existence and it was difficult for Wind not to affect the souls around them. Flame and Wind came to an agreement, Flame would stay, joining with a person to be able to affect the world, and Wind would fade, drifting through the earth in the faintest way, interacting only with the souls whose bodies had died.”

“ _Wanheda.”_ Clarke didn’t need to hear the term in Trig to understand, though the wary glances Anya kept tossing her way helped.

“ _Sha._ ”

“It is said that Wanheda returns, joins with a vessel, only when their creation is at risk. Only when all of humanity will be risked.” Ad said gently, his tone practically reverent.

“Yes.” Anya confirmed, “Eton told me that Wanheda never had any intention of returning, but because of the connection to all of the souls of humanity, Wanheda couldn’t resist the cry of so many souls. Wanheda was pulled into this world fully and Wanheda’s soul joined with a vessel. The scrolls never said if it was done on purpose or not, but Wanheda always chooses a vessel that has inherited the ability to affect souls in the same way that Wanheda does, as well as the inherent ability to create.”

“So it’s not a bad thing to be Wanheda’s vessel?” Clarke asked quietly.

“Some will say yes, they think that Wenheda’s vessel brings death.” Ad explained, “But that’s not actually what our history tells us, they just want someone to blame. Wanheda doesn’t arrive or bind to a vessel until after things have already begun.”

“Many people in the past have ignored the truth in favor of having someone to blame. As a result, there are very few who still remember Wanheda’s true purpose.” Anya said.

Clarke nodded and turned back to the fire, ignoring when Ad asked Anya for new stories for his kids. She let the heat of the fire soothe her until her eyes started to droop and her body grew heavier. She fell asleep to the sound of a bell-like voice resonating in her head, “ _That is my purpose._ ”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to get back to consistent posting, but summer is a bitch on my schedule. Thanks to Bookwyrm743 for knocking some sense into me and helping me realize why this chapter wasn't working. Please comment!

Clarke woke slightly, hearing the shifting and thump of wood being added to the fireplace in front of her. The light and warmth from it had grown dim but it was nice because it meant she didn’t have to open her eyes to know it wasn’t sunrise yet. That was confirmed when blankets rustled again as a body settled back down, light snores telling her it wasn’t Anya. She shifted, pulling the blanket a bit tighter around her and let herself drift off to sleep again.

  


Her eyes drifted open, a slow blink interrupting the process before they shot open to take in her new surroundings.

“Doesn’t look like I’m in Kansas anymore,” Clarke muttered to herself, pushing up into a seated position. The movement let her know that once again she was in the Spirit Realm, the strength and fluidity giving it away.

She stood and turned in a slow circle taking in her new surroundings, the faded sofa she had been laying on, armchairs that were equally faded, but looked soft and inviting, furs draped over straight-backed chairs, cupboards that were massive and intimidating but not as intimidating as the ornately carved bed she could just barely see from her position. It was gorgeous, with delicate swirls fitted between thick wooden beams. The two statues on either side were a bit much, but at least they were useful, holding only a small portion of the candles in the room, but still providing the only light she could see for that part of the room.

She finished her inspection, barely avoiding falling over the shin-height table in front of her, and decided to take a seat, no one was here. She sank back into the sofa, it really was comfortable and enjoyed the peace, she couldn’t remember the last time she had sat somewhere and nothing had been happening or wrong.

“I am so sorry for keeping you waiting,” A girl walked in, roughly the same age as Clarke, “I do not spend much time here anymore.”

“Then why are we here?”

“I thought this might be more comfortable than the trees. I may not spend time here anymore, but this was once my home.” She offered a smile that looked like it was normally worn on her face. 

“It’s lovely.” Clarke gave her own smile and shifted, unsure if she should be standing or remain sitting. 

The girl moved on swift feet and took the armchair to her right, curling into it as though she didn’t know any other way to sit on it. She slung her dark blonde braid behind her and sunk in a little further. 

Clarke watched as she settled, she looked comfortable in this place and it made her chest ache. On one hand, she could remember being that comfortable in her family apartment on the Ark, on the other hand - this was the Spirit Realm, how long had she been stuck here to make herself so comfortable. Or maybe it really was an exact copy of her home during her life and it sprang fully formed when she became stuck here. She inspected the other girls’ face, it wasn’t familiar in any way. She began to worry that maybe she had forgotten someone, that this was one of her victims

“I am not your victim.” The other girl interrupted her thoughts, “I died several years ago.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My body was desecrated. I could not be burned properly and so my spirit was never released.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is alright, for the moment I am grateful.”

“Grateful?”

“I am happy to meet you, Clarke Griffin.”

Clarke started, she knew her name? “Why are you happy to meet me…?” She let her words trail off, indicating she wanted a name without actually asking.

“Because very few are ever afforded this opportunity.” She obviously ignored the name thing.

“What opportunity?”

“This one.” There was the barest hint of a smirk, so small that if she hadn’t spent so much time around Anya and..Lexa she might not have noticed it.

“Why do all you damn grounders have to be so fucking obtuse?” Clarke griped, “Every single damn one of you, I swear you all do it just to fuck with me.”

The smirk grew more pronounced, “Maybe it is because you are so easy to fuck with?”

“I-” Clarke deflated, “But really.”

The other girl sighed, her smile fading, “My opportunity here does not matter. It is simply a happy coincidence for me, but even if it were not, I would likely still be the one to be here.”

“Ok….”

A light chuckle, “What is it that you need?”

“I need? I-” Clarke exhaled helplessly, “I don’t even know.”

“It would not be the first time I have heard that. You leaders are all alike, you know exactly what it is you need to do for you people, but when it comes to you, you are all hopeless.”

“Ummm..”

“Think of yourself as one of your people.” 

Clarke cocked her head, not sure she understood.

The eyeroll was extreme, “Think of one your people that you know well.” She instructed.

“Raven. Or Octavia.”

“Alright, now imagine that one of them was in a position to become Wanheda. That they were actually the one who made every choice that you hold yourself responsible for.”

Clarke was immensely uncomfortable with this but she nodded.

“Now what would they need?” She asked, “Close your eyes.”

_Clarke closed her eyes, watching as a movie played out behind her eyelids. It was familiar, but this time instead of it being her, she watched as Raven found out about the air problem in the Ark and was locked away in solitary._

_She watched as Raven fought with Bellamy, trying to make sure everyone was taken care of while he did his best to avoid the consequences of his actions on the Ark. She watched as Raven set off the flares to inform the Ark that they were still alive, and watched her heart break as she watched the bodies burn through the atmosphere._

_She saw Raven attempting to make a deal with the Grounders for peace and the aftermath when it failed. She watched Raven give the order to Jasper to light the Hydrazine and her face as they heard the roar of fire as 300 warriors burned._

_She watched Raven in the Mountain and then later in the war tents. She watched the other girl follow Heda as TonDC was hit by a missile, as Abby raged at the choices she'd made. She watched Raven pull the lever, helped by Bellamy, but the one who had given the order for it to be done in the first place, more than willing to do whatever it took._

_She heard the groans of pain as she buried the Mountain Men, the screams of the nightmares, the whines of pain from injuries._

Clarke blinked rapidly, tears streaming down her face, and sank into the arms wrapped around her. She sobbed into the shoulder, soaking the rough linen shirt.

“Breathe, just breathe.” The tone was as soft as the hand stroking her back.

The sobs faded away, easing back until Clarke felt empty. Wrung free of everything she’d been carrying for months. It left her feeling weightless as the exhaustion pulled her under, forcing her to sleep.

 

When she woke again it was to a sensation of peace and a burden being lifted. She shifted, twisting to look at the girl whose lap she laid on. She got a smile as fingers continued to run through her hair.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes.” Clarke croaked, reluctantly sitting up and freeing the other girl to move. She thought she ought to feel bad when she noticed a slight wince as feet shifted and twitched.

“It is all right, pins and needles never killed anyone, and even if they did I am already dead.” She stood and bounced on the balls of her feet, forcing the sensations away. “Now, what do you need?”

“A hug.” Clarke smiled, she’d already gotten that. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed for someone, anyone, to just hold her and let her cry it out. No reasons, no excuses, no judgments - just comfort and presence. “I need..I need to know that the rest of my life isn’t going to be about killing people. About death. I need to know that I’m going to be helpful to the people around me and that I will make their lives better for my existence. I need to know that I can be this, be Wanheda, and still be a good person.”

“I think you know that Wanheda is not about killing. Yes?”

Clarke thought for a minute, it was still...twisted in her mind but yes, she believed that Wanheda wasn’t about killing, not really. Wanheda was about souls, protecting them and caring for them. She nodded her agreement.

“Are you willing to accept that death is not a bad thing?”

“I-Death has always been a punishment for my people. It has always been something to fear and avoid. How do I change that?”

“I do not know. My people, grounders you call us, we are taught that death is simply a part of existence.” She smiled softly, almost a sad sort of smile, “When I was alive, my niron would often read books from the old world. Any kind she could get her hands on. Most of them were incredibly boring, or difficult to understand, but once she told me that there was a law of science that said that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, it simply changes form.”

“I remember when she told me that, it spoke to my soul. I knew that it was right, my soul cannot be destroyed, and even its creation took energy from elsewhere and changed its form. I know that I will continue on, maybe not in this same form, but maybe that is not a bad thing.”

“Would you really be alright with it if you became someone completely different?”

“I am alright with the idea that I was once someone else completely.” She shrugged, “You know, I have always wanted to be able to sing. At home, we would have events and feasts where there would be singers, and the sound of their voices always gave the shivers. I would think about the music they created for days.” She laughed, “Sadly even my niron could not stand when I would sing. She would always tell me, ‘I love you, but you’re making my ears bleed.’”

Clarke muffled a laugh.

“Maybe my desire to sing is because in my last life I  _was_  a singer and my soul misses it.”

“What about the people you love?”

“I will still experience love. It may come from the same people as this life or I may get to find love with and from someone else.”

“What about your.. _niron?_ ” Clarke asked, “If your people believe in reincarnation, wouldn’t you be upset if you didn’t end up with her?”

“Another of my people’s beliefs’, one rarely spoken of, is that it is possible to find one person to whom your soul attaches. You are both so well matched for each other that the edges of your souls align perfectly like you’ve been broken in two. If I found that person in this life, I will find them in the next, and every life after that.” A tear slipped down the other girls’ cheek, “Though I know the woman I loved was not mine in that way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I loved her and she loved me, and I am grateful that I could be a part of her life, and she a part of mine. But now, even if I were alive, she would not be mine any longer even if it took her some time to realize that.”

She shook her head, “But none of that is important at the moment. I need you to think about the last two things you needed to know. If you can be Wanheda and still be a good person who helps people.”

“Yes.”

“How would you be able to be a good person who helps people if you are not Wanheda?”

“I was training to be a doctor..”Clarke spoke hesitantly, knowing it wasn’t the right answer.

The other girl slipped off the sofa, kneeling in front of Clarke and grabbed her hands, holding them gently in her own, “Being a good person is not determined by what you choose to do with your life. Nor is it determined by what skills you are given. It is determined by you, Clarke Griffin.”

“If you want to help people, then you must choose, every single day, to help people. If you want to be a good person, then you must choose to act like a good person. It will require you to sacrifice your wants, and sometimes even your needs, for others, but it is a choice you make. No matter who you work for, who leads you, whose powers you wield. If you do not choose to be a good person, you will not be.”

“That does not mean you can not be a good person, that you can not help others without being Wanheda, you can. You can be a good person as a leader of your people, as a doctor, as anything you choose to be.”

She shifted up fully on to her knees so her head was level with Clarke’s, “But know that those who do the most good, are those who sacrifice the most. They are the ones who risk everything they hold dear in order to help those they care for, even themselves.”

“And remember too, that becoming Wanheda, being her vessel, means that you are not limited to helping those in your world. You can help those like me, in this one.”

Clarke searched her eyes, seeing the truth written in her eyes but more than that was a longing. She took a deep breath and nodded, “Thank you.”

“No, Thank  _you_.” The kneeling girl raised her hand, stroking Clarke’s head and down her hair to her shoulder before pulling her into a hug, “Thank you.”

Clarke leaned into it, accepting the comfort, leaning back only when she felt the edges of the room begin to swirl, “I will come back for you. You should have the chance to say goodbye before you go.”

“Thank you, Clarke Griffin. I am so glad it is you.

“You’re welcome, Costia.”

  


Clarke shot upright, gasping and spluttering, spitting water out of her mouth and rubbing it out of her eyes.

“Don’t do that to me again you jokken _branwoda!_ ” Anya yelled, dropping the bucket and grabbing at Clarke’s cheeks lifting her face up and tilting it side to side, “Stay out of the damn Spirit Realm for a while or I’m going to leave you there.”

“I’m pretty sure I was already coming back,” Clarke was still shaking the water off.

“I don’t care.”

“Anya, leave the poor girl alone, you’ve already given her an unnecessary bath.” Ad was headed up the stairs, a bundle of blankets and furs in his arms.

Anya turned back, probably to scold her some more, “I need you to train me.” Anya pulled back, shocked, “I need my  _Wankepa_.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gotta say thank you for all of the comments, I had a seriously shit day planned on Friday (ok Saturday too) and your comments helped a ton! You all rock

“What happened to you?” Ash hurried off the porch, hands reaching out to grab Clarke.

“Don’t. Gonna. Puke.” Clarke gasped in between heaving breaths. She walked towards the little building that worked as a toilet.

“Don’t stop moving, you’ll cramp like a bitch if you do,” Anya yelled after her.

“What is going on? She looks like she just drowned.” Ash grabbed the pack from Anya’s shoulders even though the other woman was only slightly sweaty and breathing fairly well.

“Training.” The glee on Anya’s face was positively evil.

“Oh for  _ keryon _ sakes. Is that why you’re a few days late? Busy torturing your new  _ seken _ ?”

“More like she was torturing me. She took longer with everything than I thought she would,” She hurried to explain, “Then she was so exhausted by it all that she had to sleep for three days.”

“I’m gonna. Need to sleep. For another three. Days.” Clarke came back, hands on her head and rib cage moving violently.

“I said don’t stop moving.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and began pacing a circle, “Don’t you have. A cat to find?”

Anya huffed and left, looking for the cat she would have to return to Ad.

“What on earth did she have you doing for training today?” Ash asked as she dipped a cup into a water bucket handing it over for Clarke, “Sip.”

“Running. From your brother’s house to here.”

“At least she didn’t make you carry the pack?” It didn’t sound like Ash believed it was a kindness either.

“She warned me that it was a temporary kindness and not to get used to it.”

“If her training of Heda is anything to go by, you definitely shouldn’t.”

Clarke groaned, “Maybe I should have asked what I was getting myself into  _ before _ I asked her to train me.”

“Most definitely, but it’s probably too late now.”

“It’s definitely too late now  _ skaigada _ . Stretches.” Anya ordered, bypassing them to toss the cat into the house.

“She’s going to get hair on everything.”

“I’m not finding her again. Besides, we’re taking her home tomorrow.”

Clarke’s head snapped up from where it had fallen back while she was avoiding the stretches, “ _ How _ are we taking her home tomorrow?”

“Calm down. I’ll carry her.”

Clarke whined, “That means we’re running there, doesn’t it.”

“And running back...the day after.”

Clarke practically dropped in relief. She didn’t know how far away it was, but there was no way she would be able to make the trip there and back again on the same day.

“Now stretch.” Anya snapped.

“Like I did after the horse?”

“Fucking clueless.” Anya moved over and started showing her.

“I guess I’ll go make dinner,” Ash muttered under her breath.

“Make lots!” Anya called, obviously hearing her despite her low tone and Clarke’s whining as Anya corrected her position.

“Of course, my lady. Happy to, my lady. Can I kiss your ass, my lady?” Ash muttered again.

She went back inside and started pulling jars off shelves before she paused. She grabbed a few things and took them back outside, “Don’t come in until you smell better.”

“You’re so soft.”

“No, I just don’t want sweat flavored stew.” Ash turned on her heel and went back in.

  
  


Clarke sank back with a sigh of relief. The water was hot, hot enough that her skin was already bright red, but it felt so good on her screaming muscles that she didn’t really care. She let her eyes drift closed, enjoying the moment.

Just as Anya had said they’d made the trip to and from Ad’s house, hauling the cat on the way there. Clarke knew she had the creature to thank for their slightly slower pace, the cat hadn’t been happy about being carried, but wasn’t willing to just follow along like she had when she was following her horse. Ad had just walked away when Anya had complained.

Sadly the cat wasn’t there on the way back and Anya had made sure to push harder to make up for the ‘pathetic pace’ of the day before. Clarke had cried for the last few minutes before Anya finally let her slow down to a walk to ‘cool down’, whatever that was supposed to mean, she’d been dripping with so much sweat she’d just walked right into the stream behind the cabin and sat down.

Then the next morning when she’d woken up she had been so sore that Anya had to help her outside, where she’d then forced her through another stretching session. By the time that was done she could walk, but just barely. After they’d eaten breakfast, Clarke had told Anya there was no way she could run. Anya had nodded and agreed, and then pulled out metal disks that she’d made Clarke lift, swing and rotate.

Fortunately, today was a ‘rest day’, not that it actually meant resting, it just meant that instead of running and lifting heavy things she was made to hike through the woods to check on Anya’s traps, and yelled at when she was being taught to fish. She was pretty sure that was what contributed to not catching anything more than her cringing at touching a worm.

“Your skin is going to melt off if you sit in there any longer.” Anya had gone inside after helping her fill the tub with hot water and herbs, now apparently she was back.

“I don’t mind. Don’t suppose you would be willing to heat up some more water?” It was still kind of warm, but she could definitely feel the dropping temperature.

“Get out.” Anya handed her a large cloth big enough to cover a fair bit of her, she waited a minute, hoping Anya would turn around or leave and give her some privacy but she just stood there watching. Clarke rolled her eyes and stood, wrapping the towel around her torso.

“Follow me.” Anya led the way back into the cabin and stood by the work table which was now covered in cloths and furs. “Lay down.”

Clarke looked at her confused.

“Lay down on the table. Face down.”

Clarke made a face, this was weird, and hitched the cloth around her before climbing onto the table and settling in. It was actually surprisingly comfortable, the furs providing cushioning to the table. Clarke squeaked when Anya tugged on the cloth, tugging it down so that her upper half was completely bare.

“Calm down, it’s just your back. We all have the same parts.”

“Or want to.” Ash piped up from a seat by the fire, she was working on some fancy thing for someone.

Clarke was about to respond when Anya started touching her back, first with long soothing strokes and then with deeper, harder motions. She felt her eyes roll back into her head, it felt so good. Anya kept working, moving from spot to spot on her back, most of it felt good, some of it was agonizing for the first few motions, and then it was like her muscles just gave up and let Anya do whatever she wanted with them.

“Onto your back.” Clarke froze, it had been uncomfortable enough when  Anya had been pushing and pulling on her butt, but now her breasts and..would be exposed?

“You can keep the cloth on the good bits if it’s that important to you.” Anya conceded before grabbing the cloth she’d moved completely off Clarke as she’d moved down her body.

Clarke turned over and grabbed the cloth, trying to do it as quickly as possible. Anya only muttered under her breath as she started working on Clarke’s feet, moving up the front of her legs. This part wasn’t quite as enjoyable, Clarke couldn’t get herself to settle down, wondering what all Anya was going to be doing. She couldn’t help but feel relieved when Anya went from her legs past her torso to her arms and neck.

“Alright, you can get up and get dressed, let the oil sit, it’ll help with the pain,” Anya said as she stood from her kneeling position at the end of the table.

Clarke sat up, muscles heavy and slow but with less pain than she’d felt for days. She slid to the side of the table, still clutching the cloth to her chest, and had to catch herself as her legs buckled slightly. She shook of Anya’s outreached hand and shambled to her bed, sinking onto the mattress. She looked at the clothes she had laid out for herself before getting into the tub outside and considered not putting them on.

“You are not eating dinner naked.” Ash had an eyebrow raised.

“I was just gonna take a nap.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about those post massage naps. They always seem to end at dawn the next day unless you’re like Anya in which case you’ll wake me up in the middle of the night rummaging for something to eat.

“Being a  _ gona _ requires energy, which means food.”

“You eat more than a pauna.”

“She doesn’t. Is she as messy as a pauna? Maybe.” Clarke piped up, trying to shake off the tiredness.

“What would you know about how a pauna eats?” Anya asked.

“You didn’t hear about that? Huh,”

“No, Clarke. I didn’t hear about that. So tell me.”

Clarke shrugged, “Heda and I had to escape a pauna, ended up in its feeding grounds.”

“How did you escape?” Ash asked, 

“There was a room with a barred door that opened in. The pauna found us in the room and was trying to get in, instead of letting it bend the door out of shape we let it in and then closed the door behind us. It’s a lot harder to break through a door that opens the opposite way, but I’m sure it managed.”

“Most people don’t live to tell any tales of pauna, you were lucky.”

“We were.” Clarke agreed.

  
  


“Lower, I know it hurts, but you need to keep going.” Anya was ignoring Clarke's winces as she pushed on the other girls back forcing her into a deeper stretch.

“Whhhhyyy?” Clarke whined, this shit hurt.

“To become a skilled warrior you must be able to use all of the advantages of your body and counteract the weaknesses of it. You are small, you will never be able to win a fight with pure strength, but because you are small you will be faster and,” Anya started to ease up a bit, “more flexible, but only if you can work through the pain of it.”

“Why does everything warrior related have to be painful?” Clarke muttered.

“Because it’s you.”

Clarke’s head snapped up to look at Anya who was wearing the same grin she wore when teasing one of her siblings, “You’re mean.”

“Of course I am, it’s my job.”

“Well find a new one.”

“Nope, I like this one. Move that leg over.”

Clarke did as instructed, sinking into the tight, sharp pain in her legs as she spread them wider, leaning her upper body towards the ground. Anya moved beside her, taking the same position, pissing Clarke off when she just folded down and rested her upper body and stomach on the ground, legs forming a completely straight line on either side of her hips.

“Show off.”

“It’s not like it’s that hard, I’m pretty sure Ash could do it.”

“Uh, Ash does not do physical activity!” Ash corrected from her spot on the porch.

“Then show me something hard.” Clarke challenged, getting a goading ‘yeah’ from Ash.

Anya sat up and rolled her shoulders a bit, stretching out her arms slightly before she set her hands on the ground in front of her still split legs. She settled all of the weight on her arms and began lifting her legs up behind her. Clarke watched in awe as Anya slowly lifted her legs, still in the same split, until she was doing a handstand on one single hand. Then Anya began moving her legs, bring them up so she formed a straight line before lowering them so that they were basically resting on her shoulders, feet out in front of her. Then one leg moved back and the front leg dropped off her shoulder as Anya dropped into a partial pushup with her legs still suspended and balanced. When she switched which leg was in front and in the back she moved so slowly that it was making Clarke sweat to watch. Finally, she brought her legs together and up, before slowly lowering them down, curling into a backbend that had her toes resting on her hair.

“Holy shit.”

Anya set her feet on the ground and lifted her upper body out of the bend before turning around to face Clarke and flopping down to sit again, “Took me years to be able to do that. Not even Heda is quite that good…”Anya’s smile faded, “Or she wasn’t.”

“You’ll find out.”

“Next pose, and what do you mean I’ll find out?”

“When we go see her.”

Anya looked a bit concerned, “Is that in the plans?”

“At some point, yeah.”

“Why?”

Clarke looked at Anya, was she serious, “Because I’m  _ Skaikru _ , pretty sure I can’t just walk around the coalition without permission.”

“First off, that’s exactly what you were doing when I found you. Second, Wanheda doesn’t answer to Heda. In fact, Wanheda is exempt from all the laws of the coalition.”

“Wait, what?”

“Being a vessel for Fleimheda is a bit..different than being a vessel for Wanheda, and while it’s rare, there have been a few who joined with Fleimheda who were evil. During those times Wanheda has always been called upon to..correct the situation. Because of that, our culture says that Wanheda can never be subjected to any laws or rules of the Fleimheda, nor can her warriors.”

“That’s-Wh-.” Clarke stuttered, “How often? I’m not going to have to…”

“No!” Anya pulled out of another stretch to look directly at Clarke, “Lexa is not evil, she has been one of the best Heda’s to ever exist. I can’t tell you exactly how many, but in the records I have covering thousands of Heda’s since the world began there are only a handful. Sheidheda was the most recent, since  _ Praimfaya _ , but he was dealt with quickly.”

“Wait, so there were Fleim and Wanheda’s in the old world?”

“Of course, sometimes they were leaders and rulers, other times they were regular people who changed the world, shaped it. Just because they had more tech doesn’t mean the old God’s vanished.”

“If Fleimheda can be evil, does that mean I could be evil too?”

Anya grabbed Clarke’s hand, “As I’ve said, Fleimheda and Wanheda choose their vessels differently. Fleimheda must choose from born vessels, Wanheda can create hers. I have never read, or been told, of a vessel of Wanheda who was evil. They may have done terrible, awful things, but those things always changed the world. And with the clarity of history, it can be seen how those things were for the better.”

Clarke nodded and Anya let go.

“Now this next stretch will help loosen your hips so you can move more fluidly…”Anya started teaching again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anya's sequence: One-handed split leg handstand, then into a forward hand peacock (Mayurasana) pose, firefly pose (tittibasana), Koundinyasana, King pigeon pose (Kapotasana) with toes on head.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - Covers the killing and slaughter of an animal, if that bothers you, just go ahead and skip the whole chapter, you won't miss anything too important.

“Why does everything we do end up with me bruised, sore, or bleeding?” Clarke asked lifting her left hand to show her raw fingertips, blood starting to well up at the joint cracks. “Or all three?” She was pretty sure she had a few bruises along her arm where the string had smacked her when her grip slipped.

Anya inspected her hand, “It’ll toughen up.” She dropped the hand, “And we both know the fun things in life should leave you a little bruised and sore.” She waggled her eyebrows, reminding Clarke of a lecherous old man on a movie she’d seen once.

“Ok, please never do that again.” Clarke rolled her shoulders, “And that was something I really didn’t want to know about you.”

“It’s the grounder way,” Anya winked, “Leave the bow, we need to hunt.”

“Do you mind if I carry it with me?”

Anya quirked an eyebrow in question.

“I need to figure out how to carry it and not make noise with it. I figure as soon as you have me shooting arrows with, you’ll expect me to do the hunting and I’m going to get hit again if I make too much noise with it then.”

Anya nodded her agreement, “I’ll probably hit you anyway. You’re still as loud as a pauna.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, settling the bow across her chest and upper back she checked to see how far it extended. She looked up and noticed that Anya hadn’t waited for her and hurried to catch up.

“We’ll want to find something big today, there’s a storm coming in.” Anya paused and pointed to the mountains in the distance, “See how the clouds are dark and hang low?” 

Clarke nodded, “So no turkeys or rabbits then.”

“Nope, we’re hoping for deer, wolf or big cat. It’s still early yet, but we’ll take a bear if we come across one.”

“Aren’t they hibernating?”

“The black bears come out when there’s still snow on the ground.” Anya crouched a bit, “What do you see?”

“Crushed leaves and a slightly broken twig,” Clarke paused trying to remember the lectures about tracking Anya had been giving during their runs every day. “The area is smaller than my fist, so not a person or a large animal?”

“What else do you see?”

“Uhhh…” Did Anya really expect her to be paying that much attention while trying not to fall on her face or heave her lungs out?

“The bark here is scored,” Anya motioned to a spot on the tree, “Something rubbed against it. So we’ve got a small print size and something sharp rubbed against the tree, what do you think?”

“Not a turkey.” Clarke snarked.

“Deer. A buck - male.” Anya stood and kept walking, scanning the ground, “And just for that, I’m going to let you gut whatever we find.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, following along and doing what she could to find the signs that Anya was finding. She did manage to find some droppings ahead of them and was really disgusted that she got so excited over shit.

Anya stopped and put a hand on Clarke's shoulder, jerking her head towards a bush, just on the other side of it she could see what she guessed was the buck they were tracking. It was rubbing its antlers on a tree trunk. Anya pushed at Clarke’s shoulder, forcing her down into a crouch and held her hand up, Clarke guessed that meant she should stay.

Clarke watched as Anya crept closer, so quiet that she wouldn’t have known she’d moved if she wasn’t watching her. Anya took her stance and raised her bow, Clarke couldn’t help but notice some of the little things Anya had been yelling at her this morning when she’d first held a bow, like the angle of her knuckles, the way her back muscles squeezed together instead of drawing back using arm strength, seeing it she could see the difference even if she couldn’t feel it yet.

The was a twang as Anya released and a thud. Clarke stayed in her crouched position, not wanting to move until she was told she could. Anya gave her a nod and she stood, flinching slightly at the blood pooling in her feet.

They approached the deer, the arrow had struck just behind the front legs, and Anya knelt beside it checking to see if it was still alive.

“You should avoid taking any shot that you aren’t sure will kill, but even the best will not always hit their mark. Make sure the animal is dead, do not let it suffer. That disrespects their sacrifice.  _ Yu gonplei ste odon _ .” Anya intoned as she bowed her head slightly, hand resting on the deer before she slit its throat, letting blood spill out.

“Get out your knife. You will gut it.” 

Clarke pulled out her knife, she knew Anya had been serious earlier.

“Grab the tail and pull it up, you want to cut a partial circle on the underside of its hole.” Clarke looked at her to double-check that she wasn’t messing with her. She sighed, Anya was serious.

“Be careful not to cut too deep, if you cut the intestines it will ruin the meat.” Anya watched, pausing her only long enough to correct the angle of her blade slightly, “Good, now finish the circle on the upper half...good. Now cut off it’s...hanging bits.”

“Hanging bits? You mean it’s penis and testicles?” Clarke was trying not to laugh, was Anya 12?

“Yes. Those.”

“Those what?”

“It’s boy parts.”

“Boy parts...otherwise known as penis and testicles.”

“If you don’t stop I’m going to make you run twice the distance tomorrow.”

Clarke  _ really _ wanted to keep teasing her, but she also really didn’t want to run any more than she already had to. “Fine.” Clarke sliced them off, smirking a bit when she dropped them right next to Anya’s foot and the other woman flinched away from them with a grossed-out face on.

“Now slice right up the middle of the belly, don’t go too deep.” Clarke nodded and cut the midline all the way up to the neck. She was pretty sure Anya was expecting her to be more grossed out, especially when she had to stick her hand inside the cavity to cut around the diaphragm and then to sever the windpipe.

“Separate the heart, liver, and kidneys and put them in here,” Anya pulled out an oiled skin, “I’ll get the brain out.”

Clarke made a face, she was pretty sure she knew why Anya wanted the brains, but said nothing and separated the requested organs. When Anya was done they yanked the entrails out and hung the deer on a long tree branch, secured by its ankles. Anya tucked the oiled skin with the organs into the cavity and then it was time to begin their hike back home.

  
  


Clarke sat down, relieved to be off her aching feet and took the string in hand. So far, nothing about hunting had been too bad. While she didn’t love killing something so that she could live she understood the necessity of it, and at least they were respectful. So far there was not a single part of the deer, except for the intestines and genitals, that weren’t going to be used. 

Ash had already walked into the village carrying the hide and bones, one going to a widowed family for warmth and the other going a tradesman to be made into glue. Every particle of meat had been cut off and was drying, some of it already slated to go to struggling families and even the fat had been trimmed off and was currently being boiled down on the fire in the center of the yard. It smelled to high heaven, but apparently, once it cooked down enough it became odorless and could be kept for a few months before it turned rancid.

Now they were working to string up the sliced portions of organ meat. It would then go into the smoking tent where it would hang until it was dried.

“Once the organs have dried out enough, we’ll grind them into a powder. Then it’s used for people who are sick, aren’t eating well, or who need to build up strength for some reason.”

Clarke nodded, then a few moments later her head snapped up, “Please tell me you don’t mean me.”

“We have been doing an intensive training regimen and you have a lifetime of partial starvation to account for. You need it.”

“No, I don’t!” Clarke protested with a gag, suddenly the intense smell was getting to her. “I’m fine, I’ve been doing fine.”

“Yes, you have.”

Clarke sagged a bit in realization, “How long have I been eating ground-up organs?”

“How long have I been feeding you?”

“Even in the cave?”

“Well, then it wasn’t ground up, I’d just add the fresh meat into the stew.”

“Ew.”

“Don’t worry. It could get worse.”

“How?” Clarke didn’t want to know, she really didn’t, but her mouth just didn’t seem to agree with that.

“During periods of severe illness or prolonged fasting, we mix lard and the dried organs together, with fresh brain when possible, heat it up until it begins to melt and then it is fed to whoever is sick or fasting.”

“That’s...Very smart and incredibly disgusting.”

“Hmmm, it is. Not the taste so much, that’s fine. But the texture.” Anya shuddered, just thinking about it bringing up a visceral memory.

Clarke hummed, it all sounded foul to her, brains were not something to be consumed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW - Transphobia and harm to a Trans character. If you can't read this (or shouldn't) please just send me a message and I'll let you know what happens.

“Good! Again!” Anya said, falling back into her stance. 

Clarke brought her hands up and began the sequence from the beginning, left, right, left, hook, kick, block. She brought her arm up too slow on the block and Anya caught her in the side of the head, again. 

“Keep your hands up higher, then you won’t be so slow on the block, you’re letting them fall. Again.”

This time the sequence went correctly and Clarke was relieved not to have any new bruises to add to her growing collection.

“Good.” Anya stepped back letting her hands fall, signaling that they were taking a break. She grabbed cups and filled them, handing one over to Clarke and draining her own. “Now, when you’re in a fight it’s not just throwing punches. Next, we’ll work on grabs.”

Their cups set down out of the way, Anya stepped back into Clarke’s space, “Being grabbed can be a bad thing.” She wrapped her arms around Clarke’s upper body, pinning her arms to her sides and kicking a foot back so she was off-balance. “If you don’t know how to escape it, it puts you in a bad position, from here I could easily kill you.”

Clarke nodded.

“But it can also be a good thing. Why?”

Clarke looked down at her body and Anya’s, “With the way my arms are pinned I could slice your femoral artery, grab you by the balls if you were a guy..and I’m really close to you. I don’t have to worry about my short arms.” Anya had started this hand-to-hand session with a commentary on how her short arms were going to be a disadvantage.

“Femoral artery is the crease of the leg?” Anya asked, “Then yes, all of those. Mostly any grab will have the advantage of bringing you in closer. Something you will need because of your height and reach. But you will still need to be cautious of grabs, even though there are ways to get out of them, if your opponent has enough strength and mass, anything short of a kill will leave you trapped.”

“So how do I get out?” Clarke asked, thinking out loud. Anya stayed silent. Clarke pursed her lips and reached up to grab the arms Anya had wrapped around her and let herself drop, ducking down and twisting around so that she was faced in the opposite direction, “And now I could run away.”

“Or kick out my leg and elbow my back, leaving me on my back. Good.” Anya gave an approving nod that had warmth blossoming in Clarke’s chest and a small smile on her face.

“I think that’s good for today, I need to head into town and drop off that meat.” Anya started stretching her arms out slightly, “You need to run out to the traps and check them.”

Clarke pouted, “Do I have to run?”

“Yes, I’ll know if you don’t.”

“So will anyone that gets within smelling distance of me.”

“And then bathe.” Anya wrinkled her nose, “No one needs to smell that.”

“Yet you’re going to make me smell it.”

“Well, yeah.”

Clarke grumbled as she went to grab some rope before setting off. It wasn’t a terribly long run, especially when compared to the route Anya normally had them take, but it was a quick run they took on days when they were supposed to be resting or working on something else. It got more difficult when the traps were full. Usually, there were only a few that had been sprung, but once or twice all but one or two of the dozen traps had an animal, it had meant by the end of that run her arms were aching and her legs were bruised from the flopping carcasses.

Today there was a single rabbit in the second to last trap, but it was small and still alive. She let it go after making sure it wasn’t injured, it would be better to wait until the rabbit was fully grown, maybe had even reproduced a time or two, before eating it.

She continued past the last one, sprinting as long as she could past the last trap. She made it farther than she had before by two strides before she had to stop and catch her breath. She probably could have pushed further, but then she would have thrown up and she was really enjoying not throwing up as often.

She walked towards the cabin, trying to cool down a bit when she stopped to listen, it was faint but she could hear voices and they didn’t sound happy. She listened harder, she was pretty sure that there weren’t any other houses out this way, the nearest one was on the other side of the cabin. Clarke looked around, maybe she had gotten confused and overshot the cabin?

Clarke walked closer, then took off running, that was Ash’s voice.

“ _ Yu jokken Frikdrein, yu no glong klin osir. Teik yo ogud na wan op.” _

Clarke burst into the clearing of the front yard, not hesitating in running directly to Ash who was clutching her leg, a knife sticking out of her thigh. Bruises littered her face and blood trickled from her face.

“What the fuck is going on? Don’t pull that out.” Clarke’s hands ran across Ash’s face, only pausing long enough to slap a hand away from the dagger.

“Get out of the way,” One of the three burly warriors growled, his gonasleng heavily accented and barely understandable, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The fuck it doesn’t.” Clarke turned, making sure to keep herself between Ash and the men, “What the hell is your problem?”

“This frikdreina is a stain on the blood. It must be cleansed.” Another spoke, slightly more understandable.

“What the fuck is a frikdreina?”

“I am a frikdreina.” Ash spoke quietly from behind, “Because of how I am.”

Clarke was confused for a minute, “Because of..No. Uh-unh, I don’t fucking think so.”

“You are not from here, you will stay out of this.” The middle one threatened, stepping forwards eyes focused on Ash.

Clarke stood fully before sinking into the stance Anya had been teaching her. She knew she was likely about to get her ass handed to her, but there was no way she was going to let these shitheads hurt Ash anymore just because she was living her life the way she needed to.

The trio glanced at each other, seeming to confirm that they were still going to do this before turning back to Clarke, ready to begin.

The first one stepped forward, pulling an arm back to land a punch. Clarke stepped in close, dodging the punch through sheer proximity and kneed him in the groin, smirking slightly when he dropped, groaning and grabbing at himself.

She turned her attention to the next one, this one holding a knife in his hand, that wasn’t going to work. Clarke grabbed the hand holding the knife by the thumb, forcing it back until the knife dropped into her waiting hand. Clarke threw it as hard as she could, not paying attention to where it landed and struck with the sharp points of her knuckles in his throat, leaving him clutching his throat and choking. 

The third one had bypassed Clarke and gone straight for Ash, and the first one was regaining his feet. Clarke’s eyes flashed and her vision and hearing tunneled. She took a few running steps and grabbed the one leaning over Ash by the shirt, yanking him back. He went further than expected, so she just let him shake it off and started kicking at the guy in front of her, too busy guarding his crotch to actually put up much of a fight. He managed to catch her a few times, mostly in the ribs, but she did pretty well with the blocks, catching the majority of the punches he threw with her forearms. And every time he managed to throw a punch, she managed one of her own, focusing on the soft parts of his body, stomach, inner elbows, diaphragm. 

Clarke was trying to figure out how to end the fight, it was taking too long and she was exhausted, when she heard one of them trying to get her attention.

“Girl!” She stopped and spun around, leaving her back open. If Anya had been there she’d have said she deserved the blade laid against the vulnerable skin of her throat. She gritted her teeth as the sharp blade cut into the skin, but it wasn’t as concerning as the blade hovering at Ash’s throat.

“Let her go!” She couldn’t help but struggle slightly.

He glared at her and gave her a nasty smile, “I’m going to slit this frikdreina’s throat. Then when I’m done, maybe we can have some fun with you.” His eyes raked up and down her body making Clarke shudder in disgust.

“You’re disgusting.” She grit her teeth as the guy behind her groped her breast.

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.” Ash sobbed.

“Shut up, you filthy excuse for a man.” He kneed Ash in the back of the head making Clarke see red.

She shifted to the right and shoved at the elbow of the man behind her, forcing the knife away from her throat, and turned her head ducking her head under his elbow. She brought his elbow back towards her and shoved her left hand into the crook of his shoulder joint, letting the joint pop out of place, and brought his arm around behind his back. His hand relaxed, letting the knife be pulled from his hand. Clarke brought the knife up and threw it, hardly registering the surprised call of her name as she pushed the asshole forward, shoving his face into the dirt.

“Clarke!” Anya raced past, carefully lifting Ash off the ground. 

Clarke blinked a few times, breathing hard.

“Clarke! Ash needs you!” Anya yelled glancing at the guy under Clarke, “Leave him, he’s not important.”

Clarke let him go and hurried over to Ash, she was barely conscious, mumbling incoherently and unable to focus on anything. “We should get her inside, I need to be ready to sew her leg closed before I take the blade out.”

Anya’s head snapped around looking for the blade on her leg, rage growing on her face. She growled as she lifted Ash, carrying her inside and placing her on Clarke’s single bed. While she did that, Clarke rummage through the shelves pulling out alcohol, ointment, and some of Ash’s needle and thread. She set her supplies down and helped Anya undress Ash before getting to work sewing the gash in her thigh closed.

“What did they want?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“They didn’t want anything. Not really.” Clarke poured some more alcohol over the finished stitches before patting it dry and spreading ointment over it. “They were just pissed because they’re assholes. Called her a frikdreina.”

“Fri-”Anya cut herself off,  storming out the door. She wasn’t gone more than a few seconds before she came stomping back in. “Gone. Except for the one you killed.”

“Killed?”

“Knife through the eye.” Anya explained, “How’d you do that?”

“Um, it must have been when I threw the knife.” Clarke swallowed hard and focused on finishing wrapping Ash’s thigh, “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Well despite not paying attention you managed to hit your mark. Happen to know anything about the knife in the tree?”

“Tree?”

“I didn’t look at it too closely, but there was a knife half-buried in the tree.”

Clarke just shrugged, “I don’t know. It was kind of crazy.”

Anya nodded, smoothing out Ash’s hair. “Thank you.”

Clarke shook her head, “I’m glad I could be here.” She began gathering her things.

Anya stopped her, “You’ll need that for you.” She brushed fingers over Clarke’s cheek, bringing her attention to how raw her cheek felt, “Your throat is pretty bruised too.”

She nodded as she spread the cream, wincing as cuts, scrapes, and bruises suddenly began to make themselves known. She was also starting to get sleepy, she shook herself trying to wake herself up again.

“Lay down for a bit Clarke, I’ll take of..” Anya tipped her head towards the door, “I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“Are you sure? I’m the one who -” She cut herself off to take a deep breath, “I’m the one who killed him.”

“I’m sure.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posts may or may not happen this week, family coming into town for a week and I just don't know how shit's gonna go.
> 
> Translation: You fucking mutant, you don't belong with us. Prepare to die.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Life went to hell in a handbasket and shoved me in for the ride. Seriously, shit broke down, two funerals, its raining in my house, family needed to stay longer, medical shit, birthdays, and Gilder to blame for it- I'm swamped.  
> This one's a bit short and while I'm hoping that I'm able to be back this week (and that I can reply to comments this week, but shout out if you commented :D), life is still fucking with me and I may not be able to get back to the regular Wed/Sun schedule just yet.   
> Anywho - Stay safe (esp if you're in Tx), share some love, and find some good in the world this week - we all need it.

 

“You mean to tell me you managed to throw a knife into a man’s eye, imbed another one so far into a tree we still can’t get the damn thing out, but now, NOW you can’t even manage to get NEAR the damn tree you’re supposedly aiming at?!”

Clarke huffed, she wished Ash had never confirmed that she’d been the one to throw the knife into the tree or the guy’s eye. Now Anya was expecting her to be all skilled with throwing a knife and she still wasn’t able to get it headed at the right tree, let alone actually sticking to the mark Anya had carved. The few times the knife had hit the right tree, it just bounced off coming back towards them with more speed than she managed to throw it.

She tried again and lost yet another blade to the brush far to the right of where she was supposed to be aiming.

“Come on!” Anya exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

Her frustration would have been amusing if it hadn’t been because of Clarke’s own failure. She couldn’t help but join Anya in the urge to yell, none of the other training had been this hard.

“Sounds like things are going well out here,” Ash said, a lopsided grin on her face.

“Are you supposed to be up?” Anya asked her, then turned to Clarke, “Is she supposed to be up?”

“Seems fine to me.” Clarke looked her over, her color was pretty good and even though she wasn’t putting weight on the leg, she’d made it to the porch.

“I’m fine, I just need to be out of bed.”

“Fine. But you’re going to sit down.” Anya brushed past her to grab a chair from inside.

“Going that well.” Ash chuckled.

“I suck at this.” Clarke looked at the target in defeat, she didn’t want to give up, but it might be the only option.

“Yes you do, but you’ll get better.”

“I might believe you if you sounded more certain of that, Anya. Tell me, have you ever seen someone as bad at throwing a blade as I am? We’ve been working on this for three days! And I still can’t even get close to the damn target!”

“I’m telling you, you did it before you’ll do it again.”

“Maybe she won’t.” Ash shrugged, “Maybe it was just a fluke, one that saved my life, but you'll never manage to throw a blade again. Maybe you’re just gonna suck at it forever.”

“Hey!”

“Maybe you should just accept it, let it go and move onto something else. I mean, you’ve wasted three days on this, I’ve listened to you try to hit that target for three days and you haven’t even managed to get close. You’re just not as good and never gonna be as good a warrior as anyone else.” Ash continued.

Clarke screamed in frustration.

“We cannot piss her off like that every time we need her to throw a knife. But  _ joking  _ finally!” Anya yelled, startling Clarke out of her slight rage- on.

“What?” she asked, stunned when Anya pointed at the target to show a blade sunk deep, dead center. She checked her hand and sure enough, it was empty, she didn’t remember throwing it. “Huh. How’d I do that?”

“I dunno. But apparently, you have no problems throwing knives, you just can’t think about it.” Ash smiled again.

“Hmmmm,” Anya hummed, eyes squinting in a way that made Clarke nervous. “Alright, we’re done with this for now. Go do your routine, we’ll finish this up tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“You poor thing.”

“Tonight- when it’s dark and cold and there are things out hunting that would like to eat me for dinner - tonight?”

“Oh relax, it’s not like I’m going to leave you out here all alone, yet.”

“Yet?!”

“Go!” Anya shooed her along, “You’ve spent lots of time alone in the dark and didn’t mind it then.”

“My head was scarier than the dark,” Clarke muttered, already turning to start her run, Anya was beginning to glare.

“I’m even scarier!” And there was no arguing with that.

  
  


“I swear if this is some sort of hazing thing, I’m going to-”

“What are you going to threaten  _ me _ with,  _ skaigada _ ?” Anya interrupted as she cinched the cloth tighter around Clarke’s eyes.

“I’ll...I’ll tell your siblings you're being mean to me.”

“You don’t even know all of my siblings.”

“I’m sure Ash would help me.”

“Only if she wanted to find herself homeless or back with her girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Clarke perked up, gossip was always exciting, even if she was blindfolded in the dark in the middle of an opening in the forest. “I didn’t know she has a girlfriend.”

“She doesn’t know if she has a girlfriend. I think that’s the problem.”

“Well, that sucks.” Clarke shifted, trying to figure out by the sounds where Anya was going, “She should really figure that out. One of us should have some sort of love life.”

“Love life?” Clarke jumped, Anya was right behind her again. Anya moved her, positioning her in a throwing stance, squared up at some hidden target. “Targets in front of you. Go for it.”

“Yeah, you know,” Clarke pulled back and threw, she didn’t even need to hear Anya’s sigh to know the blade hadn’t hit its mark, she was very familiar with the sound of a blade not hitting a tree. “It’d be nice to have someone to cuddle up next to.”

“Spirits, you and Ash, ‘I just want to hold her’, ‘I just want to be near her’,” Anya mocked. “I’d be happy to find someone who’s a half-decent fuck.”

“That too.” Clarke shrugged, she’d heard about Anya’s last..partner, and tried again. Missed again, too. “But don’t you want the other parts of a relationship? Someone to share your time with? To talk to?”

“I’m currently stuck with two someones to do that with.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, Anya was just being difficult on purpose. She focused, throwing the three blades she still had, pulling up the blindfold to Anya’s exaggerated sigh. She looked at the target in front of her and wasn’t surprised to find it empty. She tromped to the brush around the tree, searching on hands and knees for the blades, only finding the last one when it drew blood.

“I’m just saying there’s more to a relationship then fucking. If that’s all you want then why get in a relationship at all?” Clarke asked, settling back into her stance and pulling the blindfold back down, careful not to cut herself with the blades sticking up into the air in her right hand.

“And I’m saying that you and Ash are too focused on the other parts and not focused enough on the fucking. Maybe if you were then you both would relax a bit and not have so many damn problems in life.”

“Are you saying I should fuck away the mountain?”

“Even I know that’s not healthy,” Anya said before muttering something more that Clarke couldn’t quite catch. Maybe because she had thrown, and she was pretty sure missed, all five blades.

“What is this supposed to do again?” She huffed, yanking the blindfold off again.

“It’s  _ supposed _ to force you to rely on your body and get. Out. of. Your. head.” Anya punctuated the last few words with pokes to Clarkes arm on each one. “You have shown you know how to throw and hit your target, but something is stopping you. I figure its the same thing that’s always stopping you.”

“Me.”

Anya nodded, “Close your eyes,”

“Wasn’t that the point of the blindfold?” She shut up when Anya smacked her in the back of the head.

“Steady your breathing and concentrate on your body. Loosen and center yourself, find the balance of your body.” Anya instructed.

Clarke let herself relax, following Anya’s instructions. She made small shifts, letting herself find just the right spot so she could relax more while maintaining the standing position. She felt like she found mostly the right balance and let herself focus inwards, her breaths deepening.

_ “Hello, Clarke.” _

_ “How did I get here?” She looked around at the massive room, “Is Costia here too?” _

_ “No. You chose the space this time.” _

_ “Why here?”  _

_ “You do not know?” _

_ I-” Maybe she did.. “It’s not important.” _

_ “Isn’t it?” _

_ “Maybe it is, but not for right now..I don’t think.” _

_ “Then what is important right now?” _

_ “I don’t know. I’m trying to learn how to throw knives. I’ve done it before, but I can’t do it now.” _

_ “Did you?” _

_ “Did I, what?” _

_ “Did you throw a blade?” _

_ “I-Yes?” _

_ “Do you remember throwing the blade?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Did you know how to do it?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Have you been able to throw a blade since then?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Then did you throw a blade?” _

_ “Anya says I did.” _

_ “Anya was not there.” Eyes flashed, “Only those..ripas.” _

_ “Ripas? Like the Mountain?” _

_ “Ripas used to mean something else. It used to mean those who were cruel for fun, who killed for pleasure. Who tortured because they enjoyed it. Who raped because screams were the only way for their bodies to react. Ripas are those who minds and bodies are sick and twisted. Whose souls have sickened and should be released. It is a shame that only one could be released from his torment.” _

_ “Have they..done those things to other people?” _

_ “Yes. Many others. They make excuses, to pardon their illness.” Features twisted in rage, “But Ash is ours!” The voice rolled and grumbled, grinding like stones tumbling over each other before fading into a hollow echo, a distant memory. “She will heal.” _

_ “Yes, she will. Thank you for protecting her. I was not strong enough.” _

_ “You could be. If you choose, the barriers between us can be softened, not gone- not yet, but they can be softened so that you can learn faster.” _

_ “I have been learning quickly already.” She defended but she was considering it. _

_ “Nothing will change until you have finished.” _

_ Clarke looked up, considering Wanheda. It was true, there were many things that she needed to do, many things that could help others, but she wasn’t ready to do them yet and before she could she needed to be able to protect herself and others. Her training needed to be more complete.  _

_ “We have already begun to share thoughts,” Wanheda lifted their hand waving off the sudden rise of fear, “You know when they are not your own, but you know when we are in agreement as well. Just as you know the warnings I have been sending to your dreams.” _

_ “It is your choice, as it always has been, Clarke Griffin, but we are approaching a time when you must begin to choose. Already, there are circumstances that you can affect, sway to your favor.” _

_ Clarke considered, she could feel time pressing on her, she didn’t know how or why, but she knew that every day spent training, while necessary, was a day lost. It was a frustrating feeling, and she couldn’t shake the worry and the fear that someone she loved, someone important to her would pay the price for the lost time. _

_ “Wanheda, I ask for your help with my training.” She wouldn’t fight it anymore. Not even with the sudden knowledge that filled her soul that there would be two deaths in the village in the next few nights. _

_ “They won’t be on your hands. Not really, I simply ask to borrow your body again, for a short time. No one but us will know.” _

_ “I want Anya to know as well.” Clarke refused to hide anything from her teacher. When she decided to accept Anya as her Fos she had decided to trust her with anything and everything. Including every truth both humiliating and painful. _

_ “That is acceptable. Our Wankepa will know.” Wanheda stood from her chair, the one Clarke couldn’t help but think of as Costia’s, and walked towards her, stopping in front of where she now stood. Wanheda lifted their hands, palms facing outwards and Clarke’s rose to mirror the motion. A small gasp escaped Clarke as Wanheda pressed their hands together, the edges of their skin blurring and melding together as their surroundings faded. _

Clarke exhaled sharply, her body drooping a bit in exhaustion as she dropped out of the meditation.

“Oh, decided to come back did you, how kind.” Anya’s tone was heavy with sarcasm.

Clarke glanced at her then back to the blades in her hand. She spread the five blades between her two hands, three in her left hand, two in her right and took a deep breath in. By the time her exhale was complete, they were all sunk firmly in the trunk of the tree. The final blade still vibrated where she had thrown it dead center, the other four creating a bit of a square around it.

“Keryon.” Anya whispered, having leapt to her feet as the first blade was thrown, “You figured it out.”

“Quite a few things actually,” Clarke replied, aware of how her blue eyes became a vivid purple, tinged on the edges with a truer red.

“Wanheda,” Anya dropped to a knee, dipping her head in respect.

Clarke mentally relaxed, allowing Wanheda to drive, so-to-speak. She was aware of Wanheda’s acknowledgment, the change in the way she moved, and stood, and spoke, but she was also acutely aware of the fact that she could wrest control away from Wanheda without much difficulty, a simple mental shove and Wanheda would no longer be in control of her body. That knowledge allowed something deep inside of Clarke to relax, yet another fear soothed that she didn’t even know she carried.

Clarke jolted a bit, feeling dizzy as she was suddenly dropped back into the driver's seat of her body and was faced with Anya, steadying her.

“So you going to tell me how you figured all of that out?”

“I can do that.” Clarke glanced around the dark clearing, “But can we head home, I wanna go to bed.”

“Sure thing, kid.”

“I literally carry the spirit of Wanheda, don’t call me kid.”

“I’m just here to keep you humble, kid.”

“Oh, great.”

  
  
  
  
  



	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I haven't abandoned this fic, life's just really kicking my ass right now. I'm still hoping things will start to settle down (but the last time I thought that I got to practically swim in my basement so whatever) and I'll be able to get back to writing more. I will also respond to those of you who've commented in the next day or two. I'm sorry I haven't replied, but your comments make my day and sometimes were the only positive I could find, so thank you.

“I thought you said this was going to be a one-time thing,” Clarke grouched, standing in front of a pile of sacks placed in the middle of the front porch.

“Apparently, I was wrong.” Anya shrugged, “You gonna open them?”

Clarke made a face, “I still don’t feel right about this.”

“I told you yesterday, it would be rude not to accept.”

“And I think it’s rude to leave gifts because someone killed someone else.” Clarke snapped back, finally bending over and collecting as many sacks as she could. They were all pretty small, but there were enough of them that Anya also had to collect some and bring them back into the house to set on the table.

“More gifts?” Ash hobbled over, using the furniture to support herself, “Maybe there’ll more maple candy.” She was already pawing through the sacks, separating them into piles.

“Did you eat it all?” Clarke yanked the sack in her hand away, pulling a few more out of reach.

“I thought you didn’t want gifts for killing those assholes?”

“Maple. Candy.” Clarke defended herself.

“Wait til you try Chocolate,” Anya smirked as Clarke found a sack that she tucked into her clothes shelf, “It makes maple candy look bland.”

“It’s true,” Ash agreed through her pout.

“Until then, the maple candy is mine,” Clarke started dumping jerky, nuts, berries, oats, herbs, and spices into their respective jars and barrels. Once they were away she still had half a dozen sacks with random stuff in them. “Can you use the buttons?” She asked Ash, holding up the bag. She handed it over to Ash along with another bag of incredibly soft fabric scraps. They were amazing to touch, but Clarke really didn’t have any use for them.

“You’re giving me the silk scraps?” Ash’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

“I don’t know what to do with them, they feel amazing, but they would be wasted on me.” Clarke shrugged and tucked the rest of the sacks away. She’d figure out what to do with them some other day. “Let’s go.”

“Eager are we?”

“To carry your fat ass? I don’t think so.”

“I told you you were gonna get fat this winter.” 

“I am not fat!”

“I disagree, and since I’m the one carrying you, I think I get the last say.”

“Shut up,  _ branwoda _ and get moving. And if you drop me I will make you wish you’d died.”

“Because I don’t already?” Clarke barely huffed, Anya had finally climbed onto her back.

Anya growled and dug her knees in, clicking her tongue.

“I am not a horse!”

“I know! I’ve never ridden a horse as damn uncomfortable as you. Now move it. Up to the top of the trail and back.”

“Have fun!” Ash called, grinning from the doorway, “I’ll have food waiting for you!” She laughed as Clarke took off, Anya bouncing on her back and holding on for dear life before turning back into the house. It may be boring as hell inside, but at least her day had had a pretty great start.

  
  


“That took longer than usual,” Ash didn’t bother looking up from her current project, she was so close to being done.

The only answer was the sound of jars being slammed around. Ash looked up to find Anya headed back out the door, jar of bath herbs clutched in one hand, the other being used to help her balance as she limped heavily.

“What happened?” She tossed her things aside and hurried up to Anya’s side, pulling her arm over her shoulder so she could help. Anya motioned to a stump that hadn’t been there this morning and Ash helped her slowly lower herself down onto it, concerned by the pained groan that rumbled from Anya’s throat.

Ash turned to find Clarke lugging the tub out of the shed and trying to carry a full bucket of water in the other. She hurried to help.

“What happened?” She asked Clarke this time.

“I dropped her.”

“What?!”

“She was yelling at me about running more quietly, and I told her to shut up so I could focus because we’d hit that part of the trail where the rocks slide around under your feet.” Clarke got the tub set just right and got started on the fire under the large water pot, “She didn’t like that so she dug her knees into my ribs at just the wrong time, I flinched, we slide for a bit, and then both fell down the side.”

“If you both fell, why is she limping around and you look fine?”

“Yes, why is that, Anya?” Clarke snarked with a grin on her face.

Anya just muttered under her breath.

“I think it’s either because she wasn’t paying enough attention and so she didn’t fall properly like she yells at me all the time,” Clarke stood, the fire lit, “Or it’s because she’s getting old. Take your pick.” She took off to get more water.

“Getting old huh?”

“ _ Shof op _ , that little brat-”

“Is she wrong?” Ash interrupted the building rant.

“I hate you both.”

Ash suppressed the laugh as much as she could and sat right beside Anya, “What hurts?”

“I twisted my knee.” Anya rolled her eyes, “That Skai brat already made me sit with snow covering it.”

Ash resisted the urge to check it over herself. She wasn’t a healer, but she was more than passingly familiar with all of Anya’s old injuries, “Good. Wouldn’t want you to limp too much when you go back to Polis. Wouldn’t make the same impression.”

“What? I’m not going back to Polis.”

“Uh-huh, sure you’re not.”

“That better not be why there’s a pile of fancy clothes and baby clothes in the house. I am not your personal trader.”

“Yeah you are. What else would you do all winter? It keeps you from getting fat. Or at least it used to.” Ash smirked.

“I am going to kick your ass,” Anya lunged forward to grab at Ash, who was already off towards the house. Anya settled back down on her stump without taking a single step, there hadn’t been any choice about Clarke carrying Anya back, either she carried her back or they would have stayed the night at the top of the trail. 

“Strip off and wrap this around your knee while the water heats,” Clarke set a bowl with a soaked cloth beside her feet, “And if you go chasing after Ash, then you’re more than capable of training with me tomorrow.” She set the pails by the tub. While Ash and Anya had talked she had decided to add to her workout by running back and forth to the stream as fast as she could.

“You’re awfully comfortable about nakedness when it isn’t your own,” Anya said, already pulling off her pants. She sat back down with her shirt still on, it was too damn cold out to be sitting here bare-assed naked for too long.

“Doesn’t bother me when it's not me naked.”

“I’d bet that isn’t true,” Ash came back and wrapped Anya’s long towel around her shoulders. Anya set that down and stripped off her shirt and wrappings before wrapping up in the towel, it was softer and warmer than her shirt was and less wet and damaged than her coat. “I’d bet we could find someone who’d make your face flame if they were naked in front of you.”

“Spirits, I bet we could find the same for the both of you.” Clarke checked the water, “I might even have someone in mind for Anya. Last I heard, you might still have a girlfriend though.”

“You have someone in mind for me?”

“Yeah, I think you two would get along like coffee and milk.”

“Huh?”

“You’d get along really well.” Clarke rolled her eyes, and hauled the water off the fire, pouring it into the tub. She checked the temperature, it was a bit hot, but that wouldn’t last too long. “Get in. I’ll wash your hair.”

Anya hobbled over and Clarke helped her settle down into the tub. Clarke handed over the bottle of soap and grabbed another that Ash had brought set it by her feet, focusing on undoing Anya’s braids first.

“You should pay attention to those. You should be doing them for me before feasts and competitions.” Anya said as she scrubbed herself clean, “I should also teach you the braids of Wanheda.”

“Wanheda has their own braids?”

“Just as Heda does,” Anya cocked her head, thinking, “Though maybe you should have Wanheda teach you, I never had much patience for braids. I had to let Titus teach Lexa how to do hers.”

“Were you still her first when she became Heda?”

“Up until the horn called the start of the conclave, I was her first.”Anya had finished washing herself and leaned back in the tub as much as she could while Clarke rubbed soap into her scalp, “As soon as the conclave begins, all former ties of loyalty are to be severed. To be Heda means to have no family, no friends, no teachers, and no clan.”

“That seems very lonely.”

“It is.” Clarke flinched slightly at the odd doubled-toned answer, “But it is our way.”

“Lean forward,” Clarke rinsed the soap out of Anya’s hair and grabbed the older woman’s towel, holding it up so she could wrap herself in it. As Anya stepped out she stuck her hand in the water, it was still lukewarm. She stood and hurriedly stripped, stepping into the water with a shudder as Anya stopped by the fire to dry. Clarke didn’t waste any time cleaning herself, not even bothering to undo her braids, just scrubbing her scalp clean, before she jumped out of the tub towards the fire, relaxing just a bit at the heat.

“Losing that Sky prudishness. Good.” Anya handed over her damp towel for Clarke to use while she pulled on new clothes.

“Nah, I just still haven’t lost the Sky love of smelling like nothing.” Clarke shrugged, wrapping the towel around herself. Ash had brought out clothes for Anya but not Clarke. She waited for Anya to finish dressing and wrapped her arm around the other woman’s waist. Anya grumped but threw her arm over CLarkes shoulder so she could help her hobble back to the house.

“Son of a bitch!” 

Ash dashed out the door looking to see what was wrong. She saw only Anya, huffing and rolling her eyes and Clarke helping Anya across the yard...stark naked.

“You are not making me stop here just to grab that damn towel. You can come back and get it.”

“You know I could go all Wanheda on your ass.”

“Pretty sure Wanheda has better things to do than to avenge your nakedness.”

They kept sniping at each other as they walked past Ash who had leaned back against the door, not even moving to make their entrance easier, to enjoy the entertainment. Life was boring without family around.

  
  


“Check,”

“How in the _jokking skafa_  do I keep getting sacked with _branwoda_ _sekens_ who keep beating me at this _jokking_ game?!”

“I’m pretty sure that makes you the  _ branwoda _ ,” Clarke smirked.

“Ok, maybe we should put the game away? Call it a night?” Ash dropped what she was working on and hurried over, she wouldn’t put it past Anya to toss the table on its side..again.

“NO. I  _ WILL _ find a way to get out of this,” Anya muttered. She kept reaching out to various pieces, touching some only briefly before pulling her hand back. Others she actually moved, but after a fierce argument about not being able to undo battles and skirmishes, she’d learned to keep her hand on the piece until she was sure of her decision.

Not that it would help, Clarke could see one move that she could make without putting her Heda into Checkmate, and even that one would only postpone the inevitable for 4 more moves.

“You know it’s a good thing we don’t have timers down here, on the arc we had time control and I’m pretty sure you’d have timed out forever ago.”

“You’re not helping.”

“It’s not my job to help. It’s my job to win.”

“And it’s my job to make your life a living hell, remember that.” Anya growled, she could not see a way out.”

“Seriously. We should go to bed. We’ve burned through half a candle already tonight, and Anya,” Ash was grasping at anything to keep this from blowing up, “You’re injured! You need rest.”

“Ugh, can you make a move already? I’m pretty sure we just missed all the planting and if you don’t go we’re gonna miss harvest too.” Clarke winced and groaned as Anya kicked her under the table with her good leg.

“Do I need to hide this thing? Stratplei is about learning war, not causing them.”

“Fine.” Anya gritted, toppling her Heda and conceding the game.

“Thank you!” Clarke threw her hands up, “And you could have moved your Wankepa here and it would have prolonged the agony.” She gestured to the squared. She leaned back in her chair and grinned as Ash hauled Anya back from her attempt to strangle Clarke across the table. She didn’t really mean it. Probably.

“Bedtime. Now.” Ash instructed them both, “You can clean up this mess tomorrow, and if you two don’t stop fighting like toddlers over this game I will toss it in the fire.”

“Fine by me, I’ve beaten Anya every single time so it’s not much of a challenge.”

Clarke tripped over her chair, laughing as Anya spun around hopping on one foot and grabbing after her. She threw herself onto her bed and grinned as Anya gave up and turned to her own bed, sitting with a huff and a wince as she took the weight off her knee.

“ _ Reshop.” _

_ “Reshop.” _

_ “Reshop.” _

  
  
  
  
  


_ Clarke breathed in deep, enjoying the crunching of snow underfoot as each stride took her further through the trees. Running had never provided more of a sense of freedom than it did now, her body moving with confidence and ease over and around the obstacles of the forest. _

_ She kept breathing, her heartbeat getting louder as she increased her speed, wanting to feel the burn and ache of stretching herself. She smiled, enjoying her surroundings, enjoying the sensations of running. _

_ Her heartbeat was getting louder again, but she hadn’t increased her pace, she frowned slightly, slowing down. That wasn’t her heartbeat. How could she have mixed the sounds up? That was a rumble and it was getting louder. _

_ Clarke ran now, truly ran with the strength and speed of Wanheda under her feet. The forest flew past, fields and meadows blurred together. The rumbling faded as another sound increased, running water. Clarke dodged and jumped, clearing swollen streams and newly forming ponds with ease.  _

_ Finally, she was running on sand, grains shifting under her feet leaving her unbalanced. Slipping and skidding more than actually running now, she was forced to slow down but it didn’t help, the sand was running underneath her feet, streaming towards the water in rivulets.  _

_ She came to a stop, chest heaving from the effort and bent slightly to catch her breath, grateful in the next moment that she was when her body began moving again, carried along by the moving sand. She looked around trying to find somewhere to go. There were a few tents at the border between the sand and the trees, she aimed for one that stood out from the others, it’s red flags tugged in the same motion as the sand.  _

_ She struggled towards it, but without the strength of Wanheda she wasn’t making progress. The sand was pulling her further and further away from her goal. _

_ A sudden gush of water flowed through the trees, joined the sand in pushing her away, collapsing the tent she was struggling towards. A pained yell rang through the air as the tent was swept away. _

Clarke shot upright, “Lexa.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of Anya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever and I'm so sorry about that. I want to say that I'll have more time, but the last time I tried for that I had two funerals and 3k miles to cover in a single week. Anyway, here's a little fluff before they start to Polis. Let me know what you think!

“Tell me again,” Anya ordered standing still in the midst of the motion going on around her. Ash and Clarke were both moving constantly and had been since Clarke woke up.

“I’ve already told you. We need to go, we are wasting time that we don’t have and Lexa is going to be the one to pay for it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well if you don’t know, how can you be sure that we need to go?”

“Are you really questioning what Wanheda has told me?” Clarke stopped what she was doing to turn and look an Anya straight on, “If you’re so concerned, why don’t you ask Wanheda? I’m sure after your night of death Wanheda will absolutely forgive you asking questions, you two did get all buddy-buddy over torture and murder, right?”

“That’s not- I’m not asking you to bring Wanheda here, I just need to understand.”

“I’ve told-”

“Clarke finish packing these things up, make sure you fold those clothes properly if they get ruined that’s my income and reputation.” Ash turned to her sister, already reaching forward to drag her out the door, “I’ll deal with this one.”

Anya side hopped awkwardly, trying not to fall on top of her sister but also not wanting to fight her too much and risk hurting her, “ _ Let me go.” _

_ “Are you going to stop fighting and start listening?” _ Ash dropped Anya’s arm and walked to the pot over the large fire. She began stirring, lifting cloth out before dunking it back in.

_ “I was listening. She wasn’t saying anything, _ ” Anya grouched, crossing her arms over her chest.

_ “So listen to what she wasn’t saying.” _

_ “What? That doesn’t even make sense.” _

Ash huffed and rolled her eyes,  _ “She has flinched every time Heda has been mentioned since you arrived, but this morning…” _

Anya shook her head, confused about what Ash was trying to get her to see.

_ “She’s gone from refusing to talk about the woman to rushing to her side - This is obviously important even if she can’t explain it.” _

_ “Or she’s rushing to her girlfriend’s side,” _ Anya mumbled, shifting side to side.

_ “Do you really think that she just forgave everything overnight and now is running back to her lover?” _ Ash jabbed Anya in the ribs, conveniently close to some bruises from training.  _ “Stop allowing your own fears about seeing Heda again to interfere with your duty as Wankepa. OR your duty to Clarke. She has worked hard and done all that you’ve asked of her, including becoming something that obviously scares her. Will you truly abandon her now because it is you who must do the difficult thing now?” _

Anya opened her mouth, obviously ready to defend herself from the scolding she’d just received, but Ash just walked away making sure the door slammed shut behind her, leaving Anya standing out in the cold next to a boiling pot of cloth. She sighed and began stirring, pushing the cloth bag deeper into the water to release more color. She stewed, gritting and grinding her teeth as she forced more and more color to bleed from the cloth sack, the color getting richer with every shove, poke and lift.

She finally huffed, tossing the discolored wooden stick back into the pot, watching as it slid down precariously close to the boiling liquid. Anya rolled her eyes, Ash was going to give her grief if she just left it like that. She grabbed a metal bucket and scooped some of the water out, just enough to avoid burning her fingers as she grabbed the stick and set it down leaning against the now emptied metal bucket.

“Are you going to keep pouting? Or are you going to come inside and pack?” Ash called, collecting fabric from the line at the back of the house. “If you’re going to keep pouting, that needs to be emptied and the fabric rinsed and dried.”

“I’m not pouting. Generals don’t pout.”

“Sure you don’t.” Clarke mocked, leaning against a porch post. She stood and walked over to join Anya, helping her to empty the pot in silence. They were knelt by the stream, rinsing the newly dyed fabric in the frigid water, hands red and burning from the cold, before she spoke again. “I’ll leave in the morning. If you could draw me a map to Polis I’d appreciate it.”

“Draw you a map?”

Clarke nodded, numb hands wringing water out of fabric, “I can’t afford to lose time, going the wrong way. I’m sorry I won’t be able to pay you back for your help, or the supplies. Maybe someday-”

“You are not paying me back for anything, Clarke.” Anya sat back on her heels, not caring that now her lower legs were fully soaked, “Why would you think that you needed to?”

“You’ve offered a lot of help, saved my life. Without you..I wouldn’t be able to help even if I wanted. I owe you so much.” Clarke shook her head, “I just..” She sighed, “I didn’t realize we would be separating so soon and I..” She trailed off.

“Clarke. I offered my help, taught you for so many reasons, but never for what you could pay me.” Anya almost looked offended.

Clarke almost looked as though she wanted to argue, but instead she closed her mouth and nodded her head. “Thank you. For everything.”

Clarke collected the wet cloth in her arms and hauled it over to the line near Ash, joining her in hanging the items up to dry.

Anya watched, chest aching. Going to see Lexa was going to be complicated and painful. Both as Anya and as  _ Wormana _ . While they had stayed here at home things had settled and Anya was able to have everything she wanted. She was able to do and be everything, with no repercussions and no explanations. Or arguments. As soon as they left the cabin everything would change. It made everything inside of her clench tight, wrapping around her until her breathing was labored and rough.

Her eyes darted over to the other two women, just visible through the trees. While it wasn’t shameful to need someone’s help for these moments, it had never helped her. She’d found that having someone around just made things worse, but it also was good to know there was someone who would check on her if she lost herself to it completely. 

Anya brought her trembling, cold hands up to her chest, letting them sit on her bare skin while she heaved for breath. The cold helped, giving her a sensation to focus on. She began going through her list, 5 things she could feel, 4 she could hear, 3 she could see, 2 she could smell and 1 she could taste. By the time she got to the last, the sweat dripping down her lips, she could breathe again.

She shifted, her knees aching and feet beginning to go numb. How long had she been unfocused? She glanced around, eyes sliding past her before they registered. Clarke was sitting at the base of a tree twenty feet away, watching. Anya took a deep shuddering breathe and moved to push herself up, needing to feel more in control. She was grateful that Clarke simply stood when she did and waited for her to catch up.

They walked slowly to the cabin, neither of them saying anything about what had just happened. Each of them was well aware of what it was and how awful the attacks could be. 

“There’ll be tea inside.” Clarke’s tone was a warning. Great. Ash knew. Anya hung her head only to jerk it back up as she tripped over something. She reached out to catch herself, but there wasn’t anything there. Fortunately, Clarke had grabbed hold of her arm, steadying her with the firm grip.

Ash hurried out onto the porch, grabbing Anya and practically yanking her into the house before she shoved her into a chair. Stew and hot tea was set in front of her with a brisk “Eat.” and a quick squeeze around her shoulders. Anya was honestly surprised that Ash had been so restrained in her response.

Anya focused on eating her stew and sipping her tea, using the taste of the stew to wash away the bitter herbs that were supposed to help calm her. She glanced up every now and then to see Clarke and Ash conspiring in the corner. She couldn't be sure of course, but she was pretty sure that they were talking about her, at least the constant glances in her direction made it seem that way. She thought she ought to be upset by it, she was the big sister and the  _ seda _ , but she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Drink the last of your tea,” Ash instructed as she grabbed Anya’s bowl away startling her, “Then I think an early night would be best.”

Anya looked down at her cup, it was the dregs, thick and chunky with the wet leaves. She made a face before she chugged it down, gagging at the taste. She accepted the cup of water being shoved into her hand, ignoring the laughs as Clarke mocked her,  _ keryon _ did that always taste so awful? When she was done with the water she took a few deep breaths, wanting to be sure the tea was going to stay down.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Clarke hauled her up, making her head spin and the world tilt. That was not normal.

“What did you do?” She asked, or tried to. The words came out slow and thick, her tongue refusing to wrap around the syllables. She stuck her tongue out trying to see if it was swollen, it didn’t look like it was, but what if her tongue was just always swollen? Anya’s eyes got big, what if her tongue had never stopped growing and now it had hit a growth cycle and was going to keep growing until it killed her? She tried to ask Clarke and was immediately distracted, what was so funny? Clarke was leaning against the wall by Anya’s bed and laughing so hard that tears were rolling down her face. Anya looked to Ash for an explanation but she couldn’t find her. She turned around fully, tipping and stumbling until she landed on the bed, head in the wrong direction. Oh, there was Ash. Why was she rolling around on the floor? Was she on fire?

“You are probably going to hate me in the morning,” Clarke managed to say, trying to calm her laughing as she tugged Anya’s boots off, “But you are going to sleep like the dead.”

Anya nodded seriously, sleeping sounded really good right now. She let Clarke partially undress her and tuck her under the covers, she sighed into it - this was nice. Clarke finished and was turning away when Anya reached out to grab her hand. She missed, but Clarke turned around and looked at her, even if she did jump and squeak like a mouse.

“Don’t leave without me in the morning.” Well, that’s what she tried to say, something must not be right because that’s not what she heard and Clarke looked confused. She tried again, slower and more exaggerated this time. It must have worked because Clarke’s eyes filled with understanding.

“Are you sure?”

Anya nodded her head, slowly and carefully because the movement made the world slide into itself.

“Alright, I won’t leave without you.” Clarke reassured her, patting her hand, “Now can you let go of my ass?”

Oh. 

Anya let go and cuddled under the blankets, her eyes drifting shut against the spinning that was starting to happen even when she was still. Beds are so nice, she thought as she fell asleep.

 

“Heads are on ice?” Ash asked looking at Clarke to see if she had understood Anya’s rambling before she started snoring. Clarke just shook her head and shrugged, tucking a pouch of herbs into one of her bags. “Is she gonna snore like that all night?”

Clarke smiled and chuckled, “Nah,” She waited until Ash’s shoulders dropped in relief, “It’ll probably get worse as she falls deeper asleep.”

“What did you give her?” Ash huffed, beginning to collect some things from around the cabin, there was no way she was going to be able to sleep with that racket. Clarke was already doing the same. They both paused when Anya let out a ridiculously loud snort, giggling when she started snoring again.

“The exact same tea she gives me, with a special addition at the suggestion of Wanheda.” Clarke followed out the door, tugging it shut behind her. It didn’t do much to block the noise that was practically rattling the walls, but it was better than being inside with it. 

“Well can you give me some? I didn’t know a person could be that loud when they’re awake, nevermind asleep.”

“You’ll have to go in and sleep in there,” Clarke jerked her head towards the house.

“Nevermind. I don’t think bears could sleep in there.” Ash dropped onto her furs, wrapping herself up in the cover while Clarke added more wood to the fire, “Will it help though?”

“Wanheda says it will.”

Ash nodded accepting that.

“She said she would go with me tomorrow.” Clarke shared, still not sure if she should take the drugged-out woman’s word for it.

“Good. She needs to go. She’s never hidden from anything in her life before and I’m not sure that it isn’t what made her break.”

“Is she really that afraid of seeing Heda again?” Clarke settled into her own furs.

“Not of seeing Heda, No. Although there will be consequences for becoming your  _ seda _ and  _ Wankepa _ . No, I think she’s more afraid of seeing Lexa again. After their fight..she wasn’t the same. She stopped laughing, stopped playing, stopped seeing the positives in life. It was like she couldn’t see anything but her mistakes anymore.”

“What changed?”

“You.” Ash gave her a soft smile, barely visible. “Those first few weeks you were here I saw glimpses of my sister, who she was. But as the two of you have begun training, as she’s taken the role of teacher again, she’s come back.” Ash’s eyebrows creased in thought as she finished.

“What is it?”

Ash shook her head, obviously trying to shake her worries away, “I’m just worried that seeing Lexa again- that Anya will fall back to the way she was after their fight.”

“You think Lexa will still blame her?”

“I don’t know. You two are the ones who have met her. What do you think?”

Clarke didn’t think it was a serious question at first, but.. “Before the Mountain, I would have said she wouldn’t, but now…” Clarke grit her teeth, barely restraining from grinding them, “I’d be more than happy to correct the situation if it comes to it.” Clarke heard the hard edge in her voice, but didn’t care. If she needed to fight with Lexa in order for her to get her head out of her as- Clarke tipped over, air escaping from her chest in a soft oomph as Ash tackled her, giving her a fierce hug.

“Thank you,  _ striksis _ ,” Ash whispered in her ear, squeezing her just a little bit tighter before letting her go and returning to her furs.

Clarke blinked rapidly, trying to clear the extra moisture from her eyes. She nodded and cleared her throat before laying down in her furs and pulling them up around her chin. They both whispered  _ reshop _ before closing their eyes to try and sleep. It took a while for Clarke, Anya’s snoring yanking her from sleep just as it almost took her, but when it did she dreamt of playing with a group of other children who all called her little sister.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polis!
> 
> Also there may or may not be a chapter next week, I'm traveling so I just don't know. Let me know what you think!

“I don’t care, you aren’t getting anywhere near the food.”

“Are you seriously not going to let that go? It was a month ago!”

“You! Drugged! ME!” Anya growled, hunching her body protectively over the pot of stew in front of her.

“You’re really going to eat that tasteless _skrish_ again instead of using the herbs,” It wasn’t really a question, more a statement of disbelief, and disgust.

“Yes. It took me two days to stop seeing things that weren’t there and another two days to stop daydreaming. I cannot be distracted.”

“Ugh! You stayed in bed for the first two days and I made sure nothing happened for the other two. I even stayed up all night both nights.” Clarke set her jaw and grit her teeth, squirrel was not the best meat in the first place and they hadn’t been able to find more than a few wild onions on their walk today, she was not going to ingest that watery, oil-slicked mess that Anya was trying pass for stew without some herbs to flavor it.

She huffed and tossed the pouch down onto her pack, sulking up to pout beside Anya and make faces at her, hoping she would feel terrible. As soon as Anya’s eyes were rolled up to the top of her head, Clarke used her hip to shove Anya away from the pot and tossed the handful of herbs into the pot. She threw up her arms and crowed in victory.

“You little _nomonjokka_!” Anya leaned forward to inspect what had been thrown in. She sat back with a glare when she realized that she recognized everything that had been tossed in, kicking Clarke in the shin when she saw her victorious grin. “You will pay for that.”

“Aw, I’m sorry I didn’t want to eat tasteless shit for dinner. Forgive me?” Clarke threw herself onto Anya’s back, hanging all over her and batting her eyelashes in mockery. It started a small fight between them just like she knew it would, but Anya was obviously appeased when they stopped and Clarke didn’t think she would be too bruised.

“You’re lucky the bouts begin in three days or your training tomorrow would be memorable,” Anya growled, beginning to portion out the food.

Clarke smothered a laugh as she jumped up to rummage through her pack, she was pretty sure she still had a few chunks of the hard travel biscuits they’d been eating for the last month. She found one and brought it back, breaking it in half to share with Anya.

“Please tell me we’ll get to eat some real food tomorrow,” The herbs helped, but only enough to make it edible, not enough to make it taste good. The question was met with silence and Clarke glanced at Anya who was, once again, gulping down her soup as fast as possible. Clarke gagged at the lump of soggy biscuit now sitting in the bottom of the bowl as Anya basically swallowed it in two thick, slaggy lumps.

“Brrrrrrrrrrppp, ah.” Anya belched, shaking her head at the aftertaste that filled her mouth. “Mmmmm, yes. Real food.”

“Thank fuck ya nasty.” Clarke made a face as she worked on finishing her own food in a much more civilized way, thank you very much.

“There’s no reason to complain about the way it tastes if it gets into your stomach before your tongue registers there’s something to taste.”

“Yeah, but then I’d definitely taste it when it came back up. No thanks.” Clarke collected their things and carried them to the stream on the other side of their camp. The nice thing about living so simply was that clean-up was a breeze.

When everything was tucked away she settled into her furs, wanting the warmth in the crisp night air, but definitely not ready to sleep yet.

“What do you think tomorrow will be like?”

“There’s no sense in wor-

“I drugged you, remember? Now, what do you think it’ll be like?”

Anya rolled her eyes as Clarke dodged the pebble she chucked at her head but gave a sigh as she thought about it, “It’ll be hard. Everything will be different.”

Clarke nodded her head, “No more hiding in rumors.”

“No more safety in them either.” Anya gave Clarke a pointed look, “We’ll need to purchase a tent while we’re there. It’ll give us a bit more protection from assassins and power seekers.”

“I still don’t understand that.”

“Most know better, but some still think that it is better to have the attention of a spirit, even if it is negative attention, then not.” Anya’s eyebrow arched, “After all, would Wanheda really allow another to kill your murderer?”

Clarke scoffed, “If I was being stupid enough to be murdered I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be worth Wanheda’s attention anymore.” Clarke shuddered at the real and hollow agreement melding together.

 “So do we go sign up for the bouts first? Or do we go speak to Heda first?”

“I thought you were in a hurry to get here?”

I was..I am..I mean-ugh. The threat isn’t as immediate anymore. It’s still there, but-” Clarke shook her head, it was impossible to explain when she could barely understand it herself. “Coming here set things in motion that makes things...better? I think.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” Anya dodged a stick tossed at her, grimacing when it caught in the end of her braid. 

“I try.”

“I don’t think it’d be wise to be seen in Polis without Heda being informed. That could end..badly.”

“Since she still thinks you’re dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, so we go see Heda first, then we sign up for the bouts. Why do I have to participate in the bouts again? I’m not looking to earn a position in Heda’s army or Polis’ guard.”

“You need the chance to spar with others. We’ve worked hard and you’ve improved a great deal. I’ve even seen some things that I’ve not taught you that you must have learned from Wanheda, but you still aren’t accessing all that you could. You need to use your skills against others and work on gaining access to the information Wanheda can give you. Once you do that you will be able to defeat me easily.”

“If I’ll be able to defeat you then why do I need to practice against others?”

“Because I fight differently than a man would and you know it. Stop being difficult.”

Clarke twisted her lips in frustration, “I just don’t want to give everything away. I know that the element of surprise is going to be important. I’m worried that participating will mean everyone knows what I can do and that will mess things up.”

“No one ever said you had to win. Stay in the middle during the group events, be functional but not exceptional during the skill challenges, and give yourself, what-did-you-call-them?-handicaps! during the individual fights.” Anya shrugged, apparently unconcerned, “And maybe you’ll be terrible against anyone that isn’t me.”

“Are you calling yourself unskilled?”

“Shut up and go to sleep _branwoda_. Tomorrow will be a challenging day.”

  
  
  


Clarke woke early the next morning, the sun not even warming the horizon yet. She laid there for a few long minutes dreading what the day would bring when she heard Anya shift in her furs. She glanced over and saw that the other woman was awake as well.

They got up and readied themselves for the day, rolling their bed furs and strapping them to their packs, munching on dried meat and fruit as they headed down the road towards Polis.

 

Clarke took a deep breath in, letting it escape as slowly as she could, trying to calm herself in the midst of the chaos. She stood in front of massive steel gates, swung open to invite vendors and visitors beyond the walls and onto packed streets of Polis.

She nodded at Anya who glanced back at her, checking to make sure she didn’t get lost in the crowd. It could have been a simple thing, even on the Ark as packed as it was, there had never been any place where this many people packed into so small a space, but Clarke didn’t spend much time looking around.

She could tell from the moment they joined the groups on the road just outside the gate that being in Polis was going to be difficult. Maybe another day it would be enjoyable, but today..today it was all she could do to keep breathing. Every new body that pressed against her, every new building that blocked the sky from view, every new smell that assaulted her nose served to add to the cacophony building in her head. So she did her best to breathe through her mouth, to dodge people and carts and animals, and to allow all of the sights to blend and blur in her peripheral vision.

She was grateful that Anya knew where she was going so that she could focus so thoroughly on the older woman’s back, allowing her to lead the way wherever she wanted. _It’s a good thing she likes me now or she could lead me into hell and I’d just follow her there_. Clarke smiled at the errant thought.

She was startled when the sensory overload suddenly ceased, cutoff behind a solid wall that they had just turned behind. 

Clarke looked around, noticing for the first time the stairs that they had descended. They were in some sort of cement tunnel. It was cold and the air was damp, the darkness was broken only by torches secured to the walls, their light barely enough to break through the gloom that surrounded them.

“These tunnels are only used by the Commander’s guard and Generals. I don’t want anyone else to inform Heda of our arrival before we have the chance to do so.” Anya informed her, pulling two torches off a shelf that Clarke hadn’t even been able to see in the darkness. “Step where I do and do not wander off. There are protections that you would not wish to learn more of.”

Clarke nodded her head once, accepting the now lit torch and watching Anya carefully to ensure she didn’t miss a step and trigger a trap.

It seemed to take forever, the path twisted and turned with sudden sharp turns and random ladders to be climbed. Holes appeared in the floor that had to be carefully skirted and even swung over, Clarke was rather displeased at that one especially when her torch went out and she had to land in the pitch black. It was only thanks to Wanheda that she was able to let go of the rope to land, otherwise, she would have dangled there until Anya had gotten her own torch lit.

Finally, they came out into a rather plain empty room that was well lit and clean. A nice change from the tunnels.

“Put out your torch in that bucket, this one is for cleaning up.” Anya had already put out her own torch and was using a rag to clean the dirt, sweat, and grime off her skin. “Once you’re cleaned up put up your hood. And behave.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and cleaned up quickly, making sure all of her hair was tucked away under the hood of her fur coat. She gestured to Anya to lead the way and followed behind, making sure that once again she didn’t look around. Here it wasn’t so much about being overwhelmed, but about not getting distracted. She followed Anya up three flights of stairs into a huge open area filled with people wandering around, benches, potted plants, roaming animals, and officials behind desks.

Anya marched past all of them, ignoring widening eyes, questioning shouts, disbelief, and angry protests. Despite all of the fuss in the open area of the room, there was no hesitation from the two guards who stood in front of two sliding doors. They stepped out of the way, cranking them open and allowing both of the women to pass without so much as a word. Anya did a sharp about-face and stood stone-still facing the open room as the doors slid closed, moving only once they were closed to pull a string attached to a numbered bell.

The bell rang and the room, an elevator Clarke figured, began to move. They stood in silence during the ride as the smooth ascent continued past one, then two and on and on it went. Clarke looked through the bells eyes widening when she was the highest was 50, that wasn’t the bell that Anya had pulled on, but it was on the same row so they were going to somewhere between the 45th and 49th floors. She swallowed hard, that was high.

Finally, the elevator came to a stop with only a small jerk, and Anya led the way out and down the hallway, past more guards who didn’t question her or stop her, but Clarke heard more than one whisper of fabric or scuff of shoes as guards shifted - something she should never have been able to hear.

They came to a halt in front of a set of ornately carved wooden doors, standing still while one of the guards shoved into the room beyond. The other stared at Anya, eyes wide and buggy as he stared without reservation. Clarke was pretty sure the return of the other guard was the only reason Anya didn’t pull her knife and threaten to remove his eyes because of how weird it was.

The guards pushed the doors open and allowed them through into a room that was large, but sparsely furnished. To the left was a large, long table surrounded by chairs but currently empty. The right half of the room held a much smaller table, this one obviously used recently going by the spread of food and the pulled out chairs.

Anya walked to the middle of the room and stopped, standing straight and tall in the light flooding through the uncurtained windows. Clarke smiled, just a bit, Anya was so dramatic. But it was a good show going by the reactions. There was Indra whos mouth had fallen open slightly, the most expression Clarke had ever seen on her face. A bald man with tattoos spreading across his scalp who was gaping like a fish, a servant of some sort standing against the wall had gasped and covered their mouth, and...Lexa.

Clarke swallowed hard and glanced away, trying to contain the swell of emotions building in her and threatening to overflow. She forced herself to look back, she needed to deal with this. Lexa’s eyes were wide and glittering, so much moisture had gathered that Clarke had no idea how it remained suspended instead of flowing down those soft cheeks.

“Heda.” Anya dropped to a single knee, bowing her head deeply.

“An-” She tried to speak but it came as barely a croak.

Anya rose to her feet once again and reached back towards Clarke. Clarke grasped the decorative dagger she had been carrying all morning and placed it gently in  Anya’s hand with a slight bow and a murmured “ _Seda_.” Anya glanced back sharply but said nothing, simply bringing the dagger forward and holding it forward in the flat of her hand. 

“I have come to inform Heda that her General survived the fights with the Sky People.” Anya stated clearly and precisely, “And because I must retire as General to fulfill my calling as Wankepa.” Anya bowed over the dagger, offering it up to be taken back by Heda who was motionless in shock as the rest of the room spilled into motion.

Indra cried out - Clarke had no idea what the noise was supposed to express, it was Indra. The servant in the corner dropped the dish they were holding as they fell to their knees among the now shattered pieces. The bald man burst into a tirade that Clarke couldn’t really keep up with. She had been doing well with her Trig so far, but it was just too fast.

“Enough!” Heda held her hand up in the air, clearly agitated. “Explain.”

“Yes! Explain all of this nonsense!” The bald man interjected. He backed off a bit when he was glared at, but he was still obviously waiting for an explanation.

“I was able to drag myself to safety after being shot by the sky people. It took me a long time to heal. When I had healed enough to leave, the Mountain had fallen.” Anya didn’t elaborate and Clarke wanted to snicker. They both knew that explanation wasn’t enough and Clarke could almost feel Lexa’s urge to stomp her foot in frustration. If she did that sort of thing.

“And your brush with death left you determined to become Wankepa?” Heda questioned, ignoring the scoff from the bald guy that Clarke was really starting to dislike. 

“No. I have always been Wankepa.” Anya replied and Clarke really wanted to see her face.

“You are not Wankepa. There hasn’t been a Wankepa in 40 years! How dare you-”

“Enough, Titus.” Heda took a deep breath, “Just because Wanheda has not walked with us in forty years does not mean that there have not been Wankepas. You know this. The traditions must not die.”

“Of course not, but Anya is not a Wankepa, the training takes years! It begins far earlier than even warrior training, it is lifelong and not some casual thing to jump in and out of. There have been no kepas who have dedicated themselves to Wanheda as they should.” The bald guy, Titus, protested.

“You may disagree with how Wankepas perform their duties, but Anya’s training began when it should and Eton completed her training many years before his death.”

“But the marks-”

“Have been given. I have seen them myself.” Heda interrupted.

Clarke glanced at the guys’ tattoed head and then at Anya, picturing Anya with a bald head and the Wankepa tattoos scrawled across her scalp. She almost laughed until she realized she could hear Wanheda laughing, then she was a bit creeped out.

“Why have you decided to fulfill your Wankepa duties now, Anya?” Indra asked suddenly, her gaze shifting past Anya and to Clarke.

“Because Wanheda called for me, so I answered.”

The room stilled, seeming to hold its breath as everyone’s awareness shifted away from Anya, returned from the dead, and to the hooded second behind her.

“Wanheda,” Heda whispered, her voice softening until, really, it was Lexa speaking more than Heda.

Titus stomped over and yanked on Clarke’s arm, ripping the hood off her head to reveal her face. Clarke grit her teeth and glared at him, ignoring the thump as the servant fell to the ground in a faint, the hiss of air as Lexa sucked in air, and the rumble as Anya growled in anger.

“You are nothing but a worthless imposter,” He placed a blade at Clarkes throat, allowing it to draw a thin line that beaded with blood, “I should kill you where you stand.”

Clarke allowed Wanheda to blaze through her eyes, “You are welcome to try, Fleimkepa, but you would fail.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, i know its been forever. The person I usually chat this stuff through has been having as many life issues as I have so I've had to do this shit on paper. I don't know how people do that.   
> Comment, talk to me, let me know what you think!

Lexa rolled over, shoving her face just a bit deeper into her pillow, reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed. She still had a few minutes, the hallways were silent and the light slipping under the door was dim, the tower servants hadn’t lit any of the other torches lining the hallway yet.

She closed her eyes and sighed, she should probably get up anyway, there was never enough time in the day and staying in bed wasn’t going to help. Lexa flopped onto her back, flipping the heavy furs off as she went. The air outside the furs was still sharp with cold and the shiver that took over was intense as it ran up and down her whole body, but it was enough to launch her out of bed, quick to get the fire lit and warming the space.

It didn’t take long to rummage through her drawers to find clothes, and it was a relief to huddle with the bundled fabric in front of the fire. She waited until the fire was blazing to strip out of her nightclothes and pull on the fire-warmed clothes, barely managing to pull a fresh breast wrap on before the hall outside her door began to echo with the muffled voices of her guards and Titus loud tones.

“Heda!” The door banged open, “Lazing about this morning? We really don’t have time for this.”

Lexa glanced behind him to see her guards hovering behind him, both of them torn between pulling him back and not touching the Fleimkepa. She really needed a new personal guard.

“The torches haven’t even been lit yet.”

Titus stopped and glanced behind him, giving Lexa a chance to hurriedly pull on a clean shirt. For whatever reason, it always felt worse to dress in front of him than to stand half-naked.

“Hm, well apparently you aren’t the only one lazing in bed this morning.”

“Titus, not everyone is able to keep the same schedule as you, the servants stay up late to finish their duties. And I-” She hurried on, sure that deep breathe was in preparation of another scolding, “Must be up as late as any of the ambassadors. You how the Sankru ambassador likes to greet the sun  _ before _ he sleeps.” Lexa rolled her eyes. 

“A fool of a man.” Titus huffed.

“Regardless, we cannot all be asleep long before the moon reaches its peak,” Lexa sighed and began strapping on her weapons. It might be too early, but that didn’t mean she was going to be able to avoid going to the training grounds this early.

The walk to the training grounds was made to seem long as Titus shared his opinion on..everything. Apparently, the comments between meetings and daily debriefing were not enough for him to ensure that he was heard. Fortunately he was prone to repeat himself so Lexa didn’t need to listen too closely, nor did he require much in the way of a response.

When they reached the training grounds, Lexa joined in with the group of young natblidas, the potential Hedas when she died, in their warm-up activities. Technically she should be in front, but she had always enjoyed being in the midst of them, warming up as one of them.

Her muscles slowly warmed and by the time she had begun to sweat just a bit, the warmup exercises were completed and it was time to begin the actual work of training. Slow figures were performed, ensuring perfect execution and allowing Titus and herself to correct the younger ones. Then they moved in slow spars, not trying to harm each other, but using the forms in a fight, allowing each fighter time to attack and counter-attack, to notice weakness and strength. When they were done with slow Lexa separated from the younger group, as much as she enjoyed real sparring with her young natblidas, she couldn’t afford for it to be her main workout. She needed to maintain her skills or risk death in battle or at the hands of an assassin. 

She joined a group of warriors who were warmed up and ready, training with her was part of their assignment for the week. She nodded to their leader and turned away, the surprise of how many and which ones were part of the fight.

It was a good fight, difficult, but it didn’t leave her concerned about fulfilling her duties for the rest of the day. She looked at the sun, barely peeking over the horizon and decided that she had enough time for a short run to complete the days training. 

“Good. I’ll be ready when you return with the days schedule. I believe Indra needed to speak to you about Trikru matters.”

“Have her join me for the morning meal. We can discuss things then. Arrange for any private meetings with the Ambassadors after that and the first Coalition meeting can begin after noon.” Lexa instructed as she adjusted her weapons to sit a bit tighter on her body, “No Coalition meetings after the evening meal. Last evening there were three Ambassadors who refused to wait until morning to make their complaints about how the days meetings progressed. It went on too late in the evening.”

Lexa turned away at Titus’ sharp nod and began her run. This was her favorite part of training, the constant motion, the speed, the rhythm- it was perfect. She forced her legs to move faster, enjoying the way sweat dripped down her skin and breathing became labored. Perhaps the best part of her run was that she was absolutely, gloriously alone. Since no one could keep up with her when she ran full-out like this she didn’t have guards, Ambassadors, or even natblidas. No one could keep up with a Spirit-vessel who was well trained and in good health.

Her bath was quick, more of a quick soap and rinse than an actual bath, but she was was fresh and clean as she walked into her meeting room just off the throne room. One half was set up with a long table and enough chairs for the ambassadors and their assistants, it was the best space for meetings and meals with the Coalition leaders, certainly far better than the formal ones they had in the throne room where more posturing than work happened. She turned away from the large table towards the other half of the room, it was mostly set up for serving food and laying out maps, but there was a small table near the balcony that Lexa used for small meetings like this one.

She sat at the empty seat and waited impatiently as a servant began to fill her plate, grateful that Indra preferred not to speak of clan business on an empty stomach or while eating- something about it giving her indigestion. Regardless, Lexa focused on her meal once it was served, shoveling in each mouthful with little grace and a lot of speed, she was starving.

“Lexa.” Titus scolded as some of her eggs fell off her fork in her haste.

“Schory.” She didn’t bother to swallow, or slow down. 

Titus just stared at her, probably hoping she’d be shamed into behaving herself. She scraped up the last few bits of egg with her bread and scarfed it down before leaning back into her chair with a satisfied sigh, patting her slightly distended stomach.

“What is it that you needed to discuss Indra?” Lexa asked, crossing her feet at the ankles and getting comfortable. She wouldn’t be able to do this with anyone other than Indra, but the stern woman just rolled her eyes and joined her mimicking her position.

“Skaikru.”

Lexa’s head dropped to the back into the back of her chair in dread, but she waved her hand to encourage Indra to continue.

“They’ve begun to mark a large perimeter around their camp, far exceeding the perimeter you’ve set. Any Trikru that they’ve come across has been beaten before being sent away and told not to enter ‘their land’ again.” Indra grit her teeth and clenched her fist, “They have also begun to build their tech in odd places, far away from their camp.” Indra shook her head. “I do not understand what they are doing, but they are taking more and more land and are becoming more violent in their defense of it.”

“Has anyone been killed yet?”

“No, but there is a village very close to where they have most recently marked. I must either force them back or move the village, otherwise deaths will occur.”

“Send people to help the village-”

“Heda!” Titus interrupted, “Surely you can’t think to allow them to keep taking whatever they desire!”

“Pack up only what they will need for a short time,” Lexa continued pointedly as though she hadn’t been interrupted, “I don’t want innocents harmed in any ensuing fights. The land shouldn’t be affected, I think it best if I take a gonakru to their main settlement and deal with them there, but I don’t want-”

“Heda! There’s- An Audience..” One of the guards that stood outside the doors pushed through, rambling like an untried seken who’d never spoken to his leader before

“I’m in the middle of a meeting with Trikru, is it urgent?”

The guard nodded stupidly, his mouth hanging half-open.

The trio stood at Lexa’s nod as the guard returned to the doors, shoving both of them open shortly after he disappeared behind it. They arranged themselves more towards the open part of the room, this was odd. Meetings weren’t interrupted for anything short of war.

Lexa stood tall and allowed her hand to rest on the dagger at her hip, something to hold onto as two figures strode into the room. She noted the long stride, the fluid motion, with an odd hitch at the forward swing of the right leg. Leathered torso and scared arms came into view as the lead figure dropped to a knee, and-

“An-”Lexa tried to speak, but her voice creaked in a way it hadn’t since her last growing season. She could barely believe what she was seeing and were it not for the spirit of Heda confirming what was before her, she was certain that she would be calling for a  _ fisa _ to treat her for poison.

Anya, was it really Anya?, rose to her feet and Lexa flinched as she noticed the motion coming from her mentors thighs and not her torso. Still..Anya was able to twist reaching back behind her towards the smaller person behind her. They were dressed in the clothes of a seken - but Anya wouldn’t take another-

“ _ Seda. _ ” So this was her seken. Lexa had to squash a bit of jealousy, she was too old to be a seken anymore, but it was a good time in her life.

Anya twisted back around and Lexa’s gaze finally caught on the blade in her hands. She was speaking, Lexa was sure of it, but she couldn’t really hear what was being said. That dagger was special, it had been crafted specifically for Anya when she accepted her role as Heda’s General. Returning it meant that she was no longer going to be Lexa’s General, but why now? Why not after their fight?

Sound finally filtered in, Titus was ranting about Wanheda. Again. What did that have to do with Anya?

“Enough!” She held her hand up in the air, trying to calm herself, “Explain.”

“Yes! Explain all of this nonsense!” Titus interjected as though his thoughts were important and it was his command being followed. Lexa glared at him, before turning back to Anya.

“I was able to drag myself to safety after being shot by the sky people. It took me a long time to heal. When I had healed enough to leave, the Mountain had fallen.” 

Of course that would be Anya’s excuse for an explanation. It explained nothing, except-possibly- why Titus had been ranting about Wanheda.

“And your brush with death left you determined to become Wankepa?” She ignored Titus’ noise.

“No. I have always been Wankepa.” Lexa supposed that was true enough, even if Anya had always professed to hate the role.

“You are not Wankepa. There hasn’t been a Wankepa in 40 years! How dare you-”

“Enough, Titus.” Lexa breathed in deeply trying to calm down, this morning had really been too much, “Just because Wanheda has not walked with us in forty years does not mean that there have not been Wankepas. You know this. The traditions must not die.”

“Of course not, but Anya is not a Wankepa, the training takes years! It begins far earlier than even warrior training, it is lifelong and not some casual thing to jump in and out of. There have been no kepas who have dedicated themselves to Wanheda as they should.

“You may disagree with how Wankepas perform their duties, but Anya’s training began when it should and Eton completed her training many years before his death.”

“But the marks-”

“Have been given. I have seen them myself.” - Not everyone tattoos them on their scalp Titus. Lexa continued in her thoughts.

“Why have you decided to fulfill your Wankepa duties now, Anya?” Indra asked, joining the conversation only to get them to the point. Lexa froze not really wanting to hear  the answer

“Because Wanheda called for me, so I answered.”

Lexa couldn’t help but look to the figure behind Anya, the seken standing so still under the hooded coat. Head turned down, face hidden. Lexa felt the Spirit that resided in her step forward, sharing her eyes in eagerness to see a long-missed companion.

“Wanheda.” Lexa couldn’t help but whisper. The spirit in her caller for its lover, her heart calling for the girl that she had betrayed.

Titus stomped past her and yanked on the seken’s arm, ripping the hood down to reveal Clarke’s face. Lexa couldn’t help but suck in a breath at seeing her again.

“You are nothing but a worthless impostor,” He placed a blade at Clarkes throat, drawing a thin line of blood, “I should kill you where you stand.”

“You are welcome to try, Fleimkepa, but you would fail.” Lexa longed to hear Clarkes voice, but this wasn’t it. She stepped forward, crowding beside Titus.

“Don’t. Please.” Lexa asked, slowly raising her hand rest on Clarke..Wanheda’s cheek. Wanheda peered out through Clarke’s eyes, the glowing silver mixing with the blue. Wanheda glanced between them, obviously reluctant to agree. “For me?” Lexa allowed the gold and red of the flame to tinge her eyes, knowing that the spirits present would do anything for each other.

Wanheda nodded once and Lexa stepped back, allowing her hand to drop. She breathed a sigh of relief before freezing in the next moment as Wanheda grabbed the knife out of Titus’ hand and scored his cheek, leaving a small line behind.

Titus had barely had a moment protest the sudden discomfort when it turned to shock as Wanheda licked his blood off the edge of the blade before sliding the blade into her sleeve.

“I’ve tasted you Fleimkepa, your soul cannot escape me now.”

“How dare you!”

“Enough Titus!” Lexa grabbed him by the back of his robe, though she wasn’t sure how much was her and how much was the spirit, they were both rather a bit pissed off. “We will discuss this later. Cancel the rest of my meetings for the day.” She practically tossed him out of the room.

Lexa turned back to see Anya had moved to stand by Clarke..Wanheda..ugh.

“You are so dramatic.” Anya was laughing as she wiped away the blood that had trickled down Clarkes throat.

“Like you aren’t?” Clarke shoved Anya’s hand away, “You’re like a new mother, it’s just a little blood.”

“I’ll remind you of that next time you’re injured.”

Lexa walked back over to them and cleared her throat, again trying to ignore the jealousy that roiled in her gut- this time it had nothing to do with sekens. She stood by them and opened her mouth, but realized she didn’t know what to say. To either of them.

“Welp, I'm gonna go sign in.” Clarke said after a long and awkward silence. “Indra, could you show me where to sign up for these bout things? And maybe where to find a tent?” She scratched her nose, “And some food. I haven’t eaten real food since we left Ash.”

“Ash was with you?” Indra’s eyes narrowed.

“Ah yeah?” Clarke replied, slapping Anya’s tugging hand away.

“Yes I will show you, and you will tell me what my should be daughter-in-law is doing in Anya’s home and not with my daughter.” Clarkes’ eyes got big and she gulped, but nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Anya, I’ll meet you…”

“At the base of the Tower at sundown.”

“At sundown.” Clarke agreed, she glanced quickly at Lexa before looking away and offering a quick nod to both of them. She turned on her heel and headed out the door, leaving Indra to follow.

Lexa and Anya stood looking at each other, both unsure of what to say.

Anya shifted, “Maybe I shou-

Her words were cut off as Lexa threw herself at Anya, wrapping her in a hug. Anya knew it was thanks to Clarke that she was so quick to respond, wrapping her own arms around the leader she used to teach. They held onto each other, neither mentioning when they felt wet spots forming on their shirts from one another’s tears.

Neither knew how long it had been when they finally separated.

“Can we talk?” Lexa asked, swiping at her face.

“Yeah,” Anya said, “But maybe we should do something about that one first?” She nodded her head towards the still passed out servant.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE comment/Kudos/Subscribe/Bookmark whatever floats your boat. I adore hearing my email ding with that shit and I'm in withdrawal with the last fic done.


End file.
